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The
By
Jules Verne
THE
CHAP=
TER I -
CONTRADICTORY LETTERS
CHAP=
TER III
- THE DOCHART PIT
CHAP=
TER IV -
THE FORD FAMILY
CHAP=
TER V -
SOME STRANGE PHENOMENA
CHAP=
TER VI -
SIMON FORD'S EXPERIMENT
CHAP=
TER IX -
THE FIRE-MAIDENS
CHAP=
TER XI -
HANGING BY A THREAD
CHAP=
TER XIII
- ON THE REVOLVING LADDER..
CHAP=
TER XV -
LOCH LOMOND AND LOCH KATRINE..
CHAP=
TER XVI
- A FINAL THREAT
CHAP=
TER
XVIII - NELL'S WEDDING
CHAP=
TER XIX
- THE LEGEND OF OLD SILFAX..
To
Mr. F. R. Starr, Engineer, 30 Canongate, Edinburgh.
IF
Mr. James Starr will come to-morrow to the Aberfoyle coal-mines,
Dochart
pit, Yarrow shaft, a communication of an interesting nature will
be
made to him.
"Mr.
James Starr will be awaited for, the whole day, at the Callander
station,
by Harry Ford, son of the old overman Simon Ford."
"He
is requested to keep this invitation secret."
Such
was the letter which James Starr received by the first post, on the
3rd
December, 18--, the letter bearing the Aberfoyle postmark, county of
The
engineer's curiosity was excited to the highest pitch. It never
occurred
to him to doubt whether this letter might not be a hoax. For
many
years he had known Simon Ford, one of the former foremen of the
Aberfoyle
mines, of which he, James Starr, had for twenty years, been
the
manager, or, as he would be termed in English coal-mines, the
viewer.
James Starr was a strongly-constituted man, on whom his
fifty-five
years weighed no more heavily than if they had been forty.
He
belonged to an old
distinguished
members. His labors did credit to the body of engineers
who
are gradually devouring the carboniferous subsoil of the United
Kingdom,
as much at
of
mysterious
mines of Aberfoyle, which border on the Alloa mines and
occupy
part of the
acquired
the greatest renown. There, the greater part of his existence
had
been passed. Besides this, James Starr belonged to the Scottish
Antiquarian
Society, of which he had been made president. He was also
included
amongst the most active members of the Royal Institution; and
the
Edinburgh Review frequently published clever articles signed by him.
He
was in fact one of those practical men to whom is due the prosperity
of
not
only from a physical but also from a moral point of view, well
deserves
the name of the
We
know that the English have given to their vast extent of coal-mines
a
very significant name. They very justly call them the "Black Indies,&q=
uot;
and
these
Indies
to swell the surprising wealth of the
At
this period, the limit of time assigned by professional men for
the
exhaustion of coal-mines was far distant and there was no dread
of
scarcity. There were still extensive mines to be worked in the two
locomotives,
steamers, gas works, &c., were not likely to fail for want
of
the mineral fuel; but the consumption had so increased during the
last
few years, that certain beds had been exhausted even to their
smallest
veins. Now deserted, these mines perforated the ground with
their
useless shafts and forsaken galleries. This was exactly the case
with
the pits of Aberfoyle.
Ten
years before, the last butty had raised the last ton of coal from
this
colliery. The underground working stock, traction engines, trucks
which
run on rails along the galleries, subterranean tramways, frames to
support
the shaft, pipes--in short, all that constituted the machinery
of a
mine had been brought up from its depths. The exhausted mine was
like
the body of a huge fantastically-shaped mastodon, from which all
the
organs of life have been taken, and only the skeleton remains.
Nothing
was left but long wooden ladders, down the Yarrow shaft--the
only
one which now gave access to the lower galleries of the Dochart
pit.
Above ground, the sheds, formerly sheltering the outside works,
still
marked the spot where the shaft of that pit had been sunk,
it
being now abandoned, as were the other pits, of which the whole
constituted
the mines of Aberfoyle.
It
was a sad day, when for the last time the workmen quitted the mine,
in
which they had lived for so many years. The engineer, James Starr,
had
collected the hundreds of workmen which composed the active and
courageous
population of the mine. Overmen, brakemen, putters, wastemen,
barrowmen,
masons, smiths, carpenters, outside and inside laborers,
women,
children, and old men, all were collected in the great yard of
the
Dochart pit, formerly heaped with coal from the mine.
Many
of these families had existed for generations in the mine of
old
Aberfoyle; they were now driven to seek the means of subsistence
elsewhere,
and they waited sadly to bid farewell to the engineer.
James
Starr stood upright, at the door of the vast shed in which he
had
for so many years superintended the powerful machines of the shaft.
Simon
Ford, the foreman of the Dochart pit, then fifty-five years of
age,
and other managers and overseers, surrounded him. James Starr took
off
his hat. The miners, cap in hand, kept a profound silence. This
farewell
scene was of a touching character, not wanting in grandeur.
"My
friends," said the engineer, "the time has come for us to separat=
e.
The
Aberfoyle mines, which for so many years have united us in a
common
work, are now exhausted. All our researches have not led to
the
discovery of a new vein, and the last block of coal has just been
extracted
from the Dochart pit." And in confirmation of his words, James
Starr
pointed to a lump of coal which had been kept at the bottom of a
basket.
"This
piece of coal, my friends," resumed James Starr, "is like the las=
t
drop
of blood which has flowed through the veins of the mine! We shall
keep
it, as the first fragment of coal is kept, which was extracted
a
hundred and fifty years ago from the bearings of Aberfoyle. Between
these
two pieces, how many generations of workmen have succeeded each
other
in our pits! Now, it is over! The last words which your engineer
will
address to you are a farewell. You have lived in this mine, which
your
hands have emptied. The work has been hard, but not without profit
for
you. Our great family must disperse, and it is not probable that the
future
will ever again unite the scattered members. But do not forget
that we
have lived together for a long time, and that it will be the
duty
of the miners of Aberfoyle to help each other. Your old masters
will
not forget you either. When men have worked together, they must
never
be stranger to each other again. We shall keep our eye on you, and
wherever
you go, our recommendations shall follow you. Farewell then, my
friends,
and may Heaven be with you!"
So
saying, James Starr wrung the horny hand of the oldest miner, whose
eyes
were dim with tears. Then the overmen of the different pits came
forward
to shake hands with him, whilst the miners waved their caps,
shouting,
"Farewell, James Starr, our master and our friend!"
This
farewell would leave a lasting remembrance in all these honest
hearts.
Slowly and sadly the population quitted the yard. The black soil
of
the roads leading to the Dochart pit resounded for the last time to
the
tread of miners' feet, and silence succeeded to the bustling life
which
had till then filled the Aberfoyle mines.
One
man alone remained by James Starr. This was the overman, Simon Ford.
Near
him stood a boy, about fifteen years of age, who for some years
already
had been employed down below.
James
Starr and Simon Ford knew and esteemed each other well. "Good-by,
Simon,"
said the engineer.
"Good-by,
Mr. Starr," replied the overman, "let me add, till we meet
again!"
"Yes,
till we meet again. Ford!" answered James Starr. "You know that I=
shall
be always glad to see you, and talk over old times."
"I
know that, Mr. Starr."
"My
house in
"It's
a long way off, is
"Ay,
a long way from the Dochart pit."
"A
long way, Simon? Where do you mean to live?"
"Even
here, Mr. Starr! We're not going to leave the mine, our good old
nurse,
just because her milk is dried up! My wife, my boy, and myself,
we
mean to remain faithful to her!"
"Good-by
then, Simon," replied the engineer, whose voice, in spite of
himself,
betrayed some emotion.
"No,
I tell you, it's TILL WE MEET AGAIN, Mr. Starr, and not Just
'good-by,'"
returned the foreman. "Mark my words, Aberfoyle will see you
again!"
The
engineer did not try to dispel the man's illusion. He patted Harry's
head,
again wrung the father's hand, and left the mine.
All
this had taken place ten years ago; but, notwithstanding the wish
which
the overman had expressed to see him again, during that time Starr
had
heard nothing of him. It was after ten years of separation that he
got
this letter from Simon Ford, requesting him to take without delay
the
road to the old Aberfoyle colliery.
A
communication of an interesting nature, what could it be? Dochart pit.
Yarrow
shaft! What recollections of the past these names brought back
to
him! Yes, that was a fine time, that of work, of struggle,--the best
part
of the engineer's life. Starr re-read his letter. He pondered over
it in
all its bearings. He much regretted that just a line more had not
been
added by Ford. He wished he had not been quite so laconic.
Was
it possible that the old foreman had discovered some new vein?
No!
Starr remembered with what minute care the mines had been explored
before
the definite cessation of the works. He had himself proceeded
to
the lowest soundings without finding the least trace in the soil,
burrowed
in every direction. They had even attempted to find coal under
strata
which are usually below it, such as the Devonian red sandstone,
but
without result. James Starr had therefore abandoned the mine with
the
absolute conviction that it did not contain another bit of coal.
"No,"
he repeated, "no! How is it possible that anything which could
have
escaped my researches, should be revealed to those of Simon Ford.
However,
the old overman must well know that such a discovery would be
the
one thing in the world to interest me, and this invitation, which I
must
keep secret, to repair to the Dochart pit!" James Starr always came
back
to that.
On
the other hand, the engineer knew Ford to be a clever miner,
peculiarly
endowed with the instinct of his trade. He had not seen him
since
the time when the Aberfoyle colliery was abandoned, and did not
know
either what he was doing or where he was living, with his wife and
his
son. All that he now knew was, that a rendezvous had been appointed
him
at the Yarrow shaft, and that Harry, Simon Ford's son, was to wait
for
him during the whole of the next day at the Callander station.
"I
shall go, I shall go!" said Starr, his excitement increasing as the
time
drew near.
Our
worthy engineer belonged to that class of men whose brain is always
on
the boil, like a kettle on a hot fire. In some of these brain kettles
the
ideas bubble over, in others they just simmer quietly. Now on this
day,
James Starr's ideas were boiling fast.
But
suddenly an unexpected incident occurred. This was the drop of cold
water,
which in a moment was to condense all the vapors of the brain.
About
six in the evening, by the third post, Starr's servant brought
him a
second letter. This letter was enclosed in a coarse envelope, and
evidently
directed by a hand unaccustomed to the use of a pen. James
Starr
tore it open. It contained only a scrap of paper, yellowed by
time,
and apparently torn out of an old copy book.
On
this paper was written a single sentence, thus worded:
"It
is useless for the engineer James Starr to trouble himself, Simon
Ford's
letter being now without object."
No
signature.
THE
course of James Starr's ideas was abruptly stopped, when he got this
second
letter contradicting the first.
"What
does this mean?" said he to himself. He took up the torn envelope,
and
examined it. Like the other, it bore the Aberfoyle postmark. It had
therefore
come from the same part of the
miner
had evidently not written it. But, no less evidently, the author
of
this second letter knew the overman's secret, since it expressly
contradicted
the invitation to the engineer to go to the Yarrow shaft.
Was
it really true that the first communication was now without object?
Did
someone wish to prevent James Starr from troubling himself either
uselessly
or otherwise? Might there not be rather a malevolent intention
to
thwart Ford's plans?
This
was the conclusion at which James Starr arrived, after mature
reflection.
The contradiction which existed between the two letters only
wrought
in him a more keen desire to visit the Dochart pit. And besides,
if
after all it was a hoax, it was well worth while to prove it. Starr
also
thought it wiser to give more credence to the first letter than to
the
second; that is to say, to the request of such a man as Simon Ford,
rather
than to the warning of his anonymous contradictor.
"Indeed,"
said he, "the fact of anyone endeavoring to influence my
resolution,
shows that Ford's communication must be of great importance.
To-morrow,
at the appointed time, I shall be at the rendezvous."
In
the evening, Starr made his preparations for departure. As it might
happen
that his absence would be prolonged for some days, he wrote to
Sir
W. Elphiston, President of the Royal Institution, that he should be
unable
to be present at the next meeting of the Society. He also wrote
to
excuse himself from two or three engagements which he had made for
the
week. Then, having ordered his servant to pack a traveling bag, he
went
to bed, more excited than the affair perhaps warranted.
The
next day, at five o'clock, James Starr jumped out of bed, dressed
himself
warmly, for a cold rain was falling, and left his house in the
Canongate,
to go to Granton Pier to catch the steamer, which in three
hours
would take him up the Forth as far as
For
the first time in his life, perhaps, in passing along the Canongate,
he
did NOT TURN TO LOOK AT HOLYROOD, the palace of the former sovereigns
of
gateways,
dressed in the uniform of their
kilt,
plaid and sporran complete. His whole thought was to reach
Callander
where Harry Ford was supposedly awaiting him.
The
better to understand this narrative, it will be as well to hear a
few
words on the origin of coal. During the geological epoch, when
the
terrestrial spheroid was still in course of formation, a thick
atmosphere
surrounded it, saturated with watery vapors, and copiously
impregnated
with carbonic acid. The vapors gradually condensed in
diluvial
rains, which fell as if they had leapt from the necks of
thousands
of millions of seltzer water bottles. This liquid, loaded
with
carbonic acid, rushed in torrents over a deep soft soil, subject to
sudden
or slow alterations of form, and maintained in its semi-fluid
state
as much by the heat of the sun as by the fires of the interior
mass.
The internal heat had not as yet been collected in the center of
the
globe. The terrestrial crust, thin and incompletely hardened,
allowed
it to spread through its pores. This caused a peculiar form of
vegetation,
such as is probably produced on the surface of the inferior
planets,
Venus or Mercury, which revolve nearer than our earth around
the
radiant sun of our system.
The
soil of the continents was covered with immense forests. Carbonic
acid,
so suitable for the development of the vegetable kingdom,
abounded.
The feet of these trees were drowned in a sort of immense
lagoon,
kept continually full by currents of fresh and salt waters.
They
eagerly assimilated to themselves the carbon which they, little by
little,
extracted from the atmosphere, as yet unfit for the function
of
life, and it may be said that they were destined to store it, in the
form
of coal, in the very bowels of the earth.
It
was the earthquake period, caused by internal convulsions, which
suddenly
modified the unsettled features of the terrestrial surface.
Here,
an intumescence which was to become a mountain, there, an abyss
which
was to be filled with an ocean or a sea. There, whole forests sunk
through
the earth's crust, below the unfixed strata, either until they
found
a resting-place, such as the primitive bed of granitic rock, or,
settling
together in a heap, they formed a solid mass.
As
the waters were contained in no bed, and were spread over every
part
of the globe, they rushed where they liked, tearing from
the
scarcely-formed rocks material with which to compose schists,
sandstones,
and limestones. This the roving waves bore over the
submerged
and now peaty forests, and deposited above them the elements
of
rocks which were to superpose the coal strata. In course of time,
periods
of which include millions of years, these earths hardened in
layers,
and enclosed under a thick carapace of pudding-stone, schist,
compact
or friable sandstone, gravel and stones, the whole of the
massive
forests.
And
what went on in this gigantic crucible, where all this vegetable
matter
had accumulated, sunk to various depths? A regular chemical
operation,
a sort of distillation. All the carbon contained in these
vegetables
had agglomerated, and little by little coal was forming
under
the double influence of enormous pressure and the high temperature
maintained
by the internal fires, at this time so close to it.
Thus
there was one kingdom substituted for another in this slow but
irresistible
reaction. The vegetable was transformed into a mineral.
Plants
which had lived the vegetative life in all the vigor of first
creation
became petrified. Some of the substances enclosed in this
vast
herbal left their impression on the other more rapidly mineralized
products,
which pressed them as an hydraulic press of incalculable power
would
have done.
Thus
also shells, zoophytes, star-fish, polypi, spirifores, even fish
and
lizards brought by the water, left on the yet soft coal their exact
likeness,
"admirably taken off."
Pressure
seems to have played a considerable part in the formation of
carboniferous
strata. In fact, it is to its degree of power that are due
the
different sorts of coal, of which industry makes use. Thus in the
lowest
layers of the coal ground appears the anthracite, which, being
almost
destitute of volatile matter, contains the greatest quantity
of
carbon. In the higher beds are found, on the contrary, lignite and
fossil
wood, substances in which the quantity of carbon is infinitely
less.
Between these two beds, according to the degree of pressure to
which
they have been subjected, are found veins of graphite and rich or
poor
coal. It may be asserted that it is for want of sufficient pressure
that
beds of peaty bog have not been completely changed into coal. So
then,
the origin of coal mines, in whatever part of the globe they have
been
discovered, is this: the absorption through the terrestrial crust
of
the great forests of the geological period; then, the mineralization
of
the vegetables obtained in the course of time, under the influence of
pressure
and heat, and under the action of carbonic acid.
Now,
at the time when the events related in this story took place, some
of
the most important mines of the Scottish coal beds had been exhausted
by
too rapid working. In the region which extends between
and
colliery,
of which the engineer, James Starr, had so long directed the
works.
For ten years these mines had been abandoned. No new seams had
been
discovered, although the soundings had been carried to a depth of
fifteen
hundred or even of two thousand feet, and when James Starr had
retired,
it was with the full conviction that even the smallest vein had
been
completely exhausted.
Under
these circumstances, it was plain that the discovery of a new seam
of
coal would be an important event. Could Simon Ford's communication
relate
to a fact of this nature? This question James Starr could not
cease
asking himself. Was he called to make conquest of another corner
of
these rich treasure fields? Fain would he hope it was so.
The
second letter had for an instant checked his speculations on this
subject,
but now he thought of that letter no longer. Besides, the son
of
the old overman was there, waiting at the appointed rendezvous. The
anonymous
letter was therefore worth nothing.
The
moment the engineer set foot on the platform at the end of his
journey,
the young man advanced towards him.
"Are
you Harry Ford?" asked the engineer quickly.
"Yes,
Mr. Starr."
"I
should not have known you, my lad. Of course in ten years you have
become
a man!"
"I
knew you directly, sir," replied the young miner, cap in hand. "Y=
ou
have
not changed. You look just as you did when you bade us good-by in
the
Dochart pit. I haven't forgotten that day."
"Put
on your cap, Harry," said the engineer. "It's pouring, and
politeness
needn't make you catch cold."
"Shall
we take shelter anywhere, Mr. Starr?" asked young Ford.
"No,
Harry. The weather is settled. It will rain all day, and I am in a
hurry.
Let us go on."
"I
am at your orders," replied Harry.
"Tell
me, Harry, is your father well?"
"Very
well, Mr. Starr."
"And
your mother?"
"She
is well, too."
"Was
it your father who wrote telling me to come to the Yarrow shaft?"
"No,
it was I."
"Then
did Simon Ford send me a second letter to contradict the first?"
asked
the engineer quickly.
"No,
Mr. Starr," answered the young miner.
"Very
well," said Starr, without speaking of the anonymous letter. Then,
continuing,
"And can you tell me what you father wants with me?"
"Mr.
Starr, my father wishes to tell you himself."
"But
you know what it is?"
"I
do, sir."
"Well,
Harry, I will not ask you more. But let us get on, for I'm
anxious
to see Simon Ford. By-the-bye, where does he live?"
"In
the mine."
"What!
In the Dochart pit?"
"Yes,
Mr. Starr," replied Harry.
"Really!
has your family never left the old mine since the cessation of
the
works?"
"Not
a day, Mr. Starr. You know my father. It is there he was born, it
is
there he means to die!"
"I
can understand that, Harry. I can understand that! His native mine!
He
did not like to abandon it! And are you happy there?"
"Yes,
Mr. Starr," replied the young miner, "for we love one another, an=
d
we
have but few wants."
"Well,
Harry," said the engineer, "lead the way."
And
walking rapidly through the streets of Callander, in a few minutes
they
had left the town behind them.
HARRY
FORD was a fine, strapping fellow of five and twenty. His grave
looks,
his habitually passive expression, had from childhood been
noticed
among his comrades in the mine. His regular features, his deep
blue
eyes, his curly hair, rather chestnut than fair, the natural grace
of
his person, altogether made him a fine specimen of a lowlander.
Accustomed
from his earliest days to the work of the mine, he was strong
and
hardy, as well as brave and good. Guided by his father, and impelled
by
his own inclinations, he had early begun his education, and at an age
when
most lads are little more than apprentices, he had managed to make
himself
of some importance, a leader, in fact, among his fellows, and
few
are very ignorant in a country which does all it can to remove
ignorance.
Though, during the first years of his youth, the pick was
never
out of Harry's hand, nevertheless the young miner was not long in
acquiring
sufficient knowledge to raise him into the upper class of the
miners,
and he would certainly have succeeded his father as overman of
the
Dochart pit, if the colliery had not been abandoned.
James
Starr was still a good walker, yet he could not easily have kept
up
with his guide, if the latter had not slackened his pace. The young
man,
carrying the engineer's bag, followed the left bank of the river
for
about a mile. Leaving its winding course, they took a road under
tall,
dripping trees. Wide fields lay on either side, around isolated
farms.
In one field a herd of hornless cows were quietly grazing; in
another
sheep with silky wool, like those in a child's toy sheep fold.
The
Yarrow shaft was situated four miles from Callander. Whilst walking,
James
Starr could not but be struck with the change in the country. He
had
not seen it since the day when the last ton of Aberfoyle coal had
been
emptied into railway trucks to be sent to
life
had now taken the place of the more stirring, active, industrial
life.
The contrast was all the greater because, during winter, field
work
is at a standstill. But formerly, at whatever season, the mining
population,
above and below ground, filled the scene with animation.
Great
wagons of coal used to be passing night and day. The rails, with
their
rotten sleepers, now disused, were then constantly ground by
the
weight of wagons. Now stony roads took the place of the old mining
tramways.
James Starr felt as if he was traversing a desert.
The
engineer gazed about him with a saddened eye. He stopped now and
then
to take breath. He listened. The air was no longer filled with
distant
whistlings and the panting of engines. None of those black
vapors
which the manufacturer loves to see, hung in the horizon,
mingling
with the clouds. No tall cylindrical or prismatic chimney
vomited
out smoke, after being fed from the mine itself; no blast-pipe
was
puffing out its white vapor. The ground, formerly black with
coal
dust, had a bright look, to which James Starr's eyes were not
accustomed.
When
the engineer stood still, Harry Ford stopped also. The young miner
waited
in silence. He felt what was passing in his companion's mind, and
he
shared his feelings; he, a child of the mine, whose whole life had
been
passed in its depths.
"Yes,
Harry, it is all changed," said Starr. "But at the rate we worked=
,
of
course the treasures of coal would have been exhausted some day. Do
you
regret that time?"
"I
do regret it, Mr. Starr," answered Harry. "The work was hard, but=
it
was
interesting, as are all struggles."
"No
doubt, my lad. A continuous struggle against the dangers of
landslips,
fires, inundations, explosions of firedamp, like claps of
thunder.
One had to guard against all those perils! You say well! It was
a
struggle, and consequently an exciting life."
"The
miners of Alva have been more favored than the miners of Aberfoyle,
Mr.
Starr!"
"Ay,
Harry, so they have," replied the engineer.
"Indeed,"
cried the young man, "it's a pity that all the globe was not
made
of coal; then there would have been enough to last millions of
years!"
"No
doubt there would, Harry; it must be acknowledged, however, that
nature
has shown more forethought by forming our sphere principally of
sandstone,
limestone, and granite, which fire cannot consume."
"Do
you mean to say, Mr. Starr, that mankind would have ended by burning
their
own globe?"
"Yes!
The whole of it, my lad," answered the engineer. "The earth would=
have
passed to the last bit into the furnaces of engines, machines,
steamers,
gas factories; certainly, that would have been the end of our
world
one fine day!"
"There
is no fear of that now, Mr. Starr. But yet, the mines will be
exhausted,
no doubt, and more rapidly than the statistics make out!"
"That
will happen, Harry; and in my opinion
exchanging
her fuel for the gold of other nations! I know well," added
the
engineer, "that neither hydraulics nor electricity has yet shown all
they
can do, and that some day these two forces will be more completely
utilized.
But no matter! Coal is of a very practical use, and lends
itself
easily to the various wants of industry. Unfortunately man cannot
produce
it at will. Though our external forests grow incessantly under
the
influence of heat and water, our subterranean forests will not be
reproduced,
and if they were, the globe would never be in the state
necessary
to make them into coal."
James
Starr and his guide, whilst talking, had continued their walk at
a
rapid pace. An hour after leaving Callander they reached the Dochart
pit.
The
most indifferent person would have been touched at the appearance
this
deserted spot presented. It was like the skeleton of something
that
had formerly lived. A few wretched trees bordered a plain where
the
ground was hidden under the black dust of the mineral fuel, but no
cinders
nor even fragments of coal were to be seen. All had been carried
away
and consumed long ago.
They
walked into the shed which covered the opening of the Yarrow shaft,
whence
ladders still gave access to the lower galleries of the pit. The
engineer
bent over the opening. Formerly from this place could be heard
the
powerful whistle of the air inhaled by the ventilators. It was now a
silent
abyss. It was like being at the mouth of some extinct volcano.
When
the mine was being worked, ingenious machines were used in certain
shafts
of the Aberfoyle colliery, which in this respect was very well
off;
frames furnished with automatic lifts, working in wooden slides,
oscillating
ladders, called "man-engines," which, by a simple movement,
permitted
the miners to descend without danger.
But
all these appliances had been carried away, after the cessation of
the
works. In the Yarrow shaft there remained only a long succession
of
ladders, separated at every fifty feet by narrow landings. Thirty of
these
ladders placed thus end to end led the visitor down into the
lower
gallery, a depth of fifteen hundred feet. This was the only way
of
communication which existed between the bottom of the Dochart pit and
the
open air. As to air, that came in by the Yarrow shaft, from whence
galleries
communicated with another shaft whose orifice opened at a
higher
level; the warm air naturally escaped by this species of inverted
siphon.
"I will follow you, my lad," said the engineer, signing to the young man<= o:p>
to
precede him.
"As
you please, Mr. Starr."
"Have
you your lamp?"
"Yes,
and I only wish it was still the safety lamp, which we formerly
had
to use!"
"Sure
enough," returned James Starr, "there is no fear of fire-damp
explosions
now!"
Harry
was provided with a simple oil lamp, the wick of which he lighted.
In
the mine, now empty of coal, escapes of light carburetted hydrogen
could
not occur. As no explosion need be feared, there was no necessity
for
interposing between the flame and the surrounding air that metallic
screen
which prevents the gas from catching fire. The Davy lamp was of
no
use here. But if the danger did not exist, it was because the cause
of it
had disappeared, and with this cause, the combustible in which
formerly
consisted the riches of the Dochart pit.
Harry
descended the first steps of the upper ladder. Starr followed.
They
soon found themselves in a profound obscurity, which was only
relieved
by the glimmer of the lamp. The young man held it above his
head,
the better to light his companion. A dozen ladders were descended
by
the engineer and his guide, with the measured step habitual to the
miner.
They were all still in good condition.
James
Starr examined, as well as the insufficient light would permit,
the
sides of the dark shaft, which were covered by a partly rotten
lining
of wood.
Arrived
at the fifteenth landing, that is to say, half way down, they
halted
for a few minutes.
"Decidedly,
I have not your legs, my lad," said the engineer, panting.
"You
are very stout, Mr. Starr," replied Harry, "and it's something to=
o,
you
see, to live all one's life in the mine."
"Right,
Harry. Formerly, when I was twenty, I could have gone down all
at a
breath. Come, forward!"
But
just as the two were about to leave the platform, a voice, as yet
far
distant, was heard in the depths of the shaft. It came up like a
sonorous
billow, swelling as it advanced, and becoming more and more
distinct.
"Halloo!
who comes here?" asked the engineer, stopping Harry.
"I
cannot say," answered the young miner.
"Is
it not your father?"
"My
father, Mr. Starr? no."
"Some
neighbor, then?"
"We
have no neighbors in the bottom of the pit," replied Harry. "We a=
re
alone,
quite alone."
"Well,
we must let this intruder pass," said James Starr. "Those who are=
descending
must yield the path to those who are ascending."
They
waited. The voice broke out again with a magnificent burst, as
if it
had been carried through a vast speaking trumpet; and soon a few
words
of a Scotch song came clearly to the ears of the young miner.
"The
Hundred Pipers!" cried Harry. "Well, I shall be much surprised if=
that
comes from the lungs of any man but Jack Ryan."
"And
who is this Jack Ryan?" asked James Starr.
"An
old mining comrade," replied Harry. Then leaning from the platform,
"Halloo!
Jack!" he shouted.
"Is
that you, Harry?" was the reply. "Wait a bit, I'm coming." A=
nd
the
song
broke forth again.
In a
few minutes, a tall fellow of five and twenty, with a merry face,
smiling
eyes, a laughing mouth, and sandy hair, appeared at the bottom
of
the luminous cone which was thrown from his lantern, and set foot
on
the landing of the fifteenth ladder. His first act was to vigorously
wring
the hand which Harry extended to him.
"Delighted
to meet you!" he exclaimed. "If I had only known you were to
be
above ground to-day, I would have spared myself going down the Yarrow
shaft!"
"This
is Mr. James Starr," said Harry, turning his lamp towards the
engineer,
who was in the shadow.
"Mr. Starr!" cried Jack Ryan. "Ah, sir, I could not see. Since I left<= o:p>
the
mine, my eyes have not been accustomed to see in the dark, as they
used
to do."
"Ah,
I remember a laddie who was always singing. That was ten years ago.
It
was you, no doubt?"
"Ay,
Mr. Starr, but in changing my trade, I haven't changed my
disposition.
It's far better to laugh and sing than to cry and whine!"
"You're
right there, Jack Ryan. And what do you do now, as you have left
the
mine?"
"I
am working on the
like
our Aberfoyle mines! The pick comes better to my hand than the
spade
or hoe. And then, in the old pit, there were vaulted roofs, to
merrily
echo one's songs, while up above ground!--But you are going to
see
old Simon, Mr. Starr?"
"Yes,
Jack," answered the engineer.
"Don't
let me keep you then."
"Tell
me, Jack," said Harry, "what was taking you to our cottage
to-day?"
"I
wanted to see you, man," replied Jack, "and ask you to come to
the
dancing
and singing."
"Thank
you, Jack, but it's impossible."
"Impossible?"
"Yes;
Mr. Starr's visit will last some time, and I must take him back to
Callander."
"Well,
Harry, it won't be for a week yet. By that time Mr. Starr's visit
will
be over, I should think, and there will be nothing to keep you at
the
cottage."
"Indeed,
Harry," said James Starr, "you must profit by your friend
Jack's
invitation."
"Well,
I accept it, Jack," said Harry. "In a week we will meet at
"In
a week, that's settled," returned Ryan. "Good-by, Harry! Your
servant,
Mr. Starr. I am very glad to have seen you again! I can give
news
of you to all my friends. No one has forgotten you, sir."
"And
I have forgotten no one," said Starr.
"Thanks
for all, sir," replied Jack.
"Good-by,
Jack," said Harry, shaking his hand. And Jack Ryan, singing as
he
went, soon disappeared in the heights of the shaft, dimly lighted by
his
lamp.
A
quarter of an hour afterwards James Starr and Harry descended the last
ladder,
and set foot on the lowest floor of the pit.
From
the bottom of the Yarrow shaft radiated numerous empty galleries.
They
ran through the wall of schist and sandstone, some shored up with
great,
roughly-hewn beams, others lined with a thick casing of wood. In
every
direction embankments supplied the place of the excavated veins.
Artificial
pillars were made of stone from neighboring quarries, and now
they
supported the ground, that is to say, the double layer of tertiary
and
quaternary soil, which formerly rested on the seam itself. Darkness
now
filled the galleries, formerly lighted either by the miner's lamp
or by
the electric light, the use of which had been introduced in the
mines.
"Will
you not rest a while, Mr. Starr?" asked the young man.
"No,
my lad," replied the engineer, "for I am anxious to be at your
father's
cottage."
"Follow
me then, Mr. Starr. I will guide you, and yet I daresay you
could
find your way perfectly well through this dark labyrinth."
"Yes,
indeed! I have the whole plan of the old pit still in my head."
Harry,
followed by the engineer, and holding his lamp high the better
to
light their way, walked along a high gallery, like the nave of a
cathedral.
Their feet still struck against the wooden sleepers which
used
to support the rails.
They
had not gone more than fifty paces, when a huge stone fell at the
feet of James Starr. "Take care, Mr. Starr!" cried Harry, seizing the<= o:p>
engineer
by the arm.
"A
stone, Harry! Ah! these old vaultings are no longer quite secure, of
course,
and--"
"Mr.
Starr," said Harry Ford, "it seems to me that stone was thrown,
thrown
as by the hand of man!"
"Thrown!"
exclaimed James Starr. "What do you mean, lad?"
"Nothing,
nothing, Mr. Starr," replied Harry evasively, his anxious gaze
endeavoring
to pierce the darkness. "Let us go on. Take my arm, sir, and
don't
be afraid of making a false step."
"Here
I am, Harry." And they both advanced, whilst Harry looked on
every
side, throwing the light of his lamp into all the corners of the
gallery.
"Shall
we soon be there?" asked the engineer.
"In
ten minutes at most."
"Good."
"But,"
muttered Harry, "that was a most singular thing. It is the first
time
such an accident has happened to me.
"That
stone falling just at the moment we were passing."
"Harry,
it was a mere chance."
"Chance,"
replied the young man, shaking his head. "Yes, chance." He
stopped
and listened.
"What
is the matter, Harry?" asked the engineer.
"I
thought I heard someone walking behind us," replied the young
miner,
listening more attentively. Then he added, "No, I must have been
mistaken.
Lean harder on my arm, Mr. Starr. Use me like a staff."
"A
good solid staff, Harry," answered James Starr. "I could not wish=
for
a
better than a fine fellow like you."
They
continued in silence along the dark nave. Harry was evidently
preoccupied,
and frequently turned, trying to catch, either some distant
noise,
or remote glimmer of light.
But
behind and before, all was silence and darkness.
TEN
minutes afterwards, James Starr and Harry issued from the principal
gallery.
They were now standing in a glade, if we may use this word
to
designate a vast and dark excavation. The place, however, was not
entirely
deprived of daylight. A few rays straggled in through
the
opening of a deserted shaft. It was by means of this pipe that
ventilation
was established in the Dochart pit. Owing to its lesser
density,
the warm air was drawn towards the Yarrow shaft. Both air and
light,
therefore, penetrated in some measure into the glade.
Here
Simon Ford had lived with his family ten years, in a subterranean
dwelling,
hollowed out in the schistous mass, where formerly stood the
powerful
engines which worked the mechanical traction of the Dochart
pit.
Such
was the habitation, "his cottage," as he called it, in which
resided
the old overman. As he had some means saved during a long life
of
toil, Ford could have afforded to live in the light of day, among
trees,
or in any town of the kingdom he chose, but he and his wife and
son
preferred remaining in the mine, where they were happy together,
having
the same opinions, ideas, and tastes. Yes, they were quite fond
of
their cottage, buried fifteen hundred feet below Scottish soil.
Among
other advantages, there was no fear that tax gatherers, or rent
collectors
would ever come to trouble its inhabitants.
At
this period, Simon Ford, the former overman of the Dochart pit, bore
the
weight of sixty-five years well. Tall, robust, well-built, he would
have
been regarded as one of the most conspicuous men in the district
which
supplies so many fine fellows to the
Simon
Ford was descended from an old mining family, and his ancestors
had
worked the very first carboniferous seams opened in
Without
discussing whether or not the Greeks and Romans made use of
coal,
whether the Chinese worked coal mines before the Christian era,
whether
the French word for coal (HOUILLE) is really derived from the
farrier
Houillos, who lived in
affirm
that the beds in
worked.
So early as the eleventh century, William the Conqueror divided
the
produce of the
end
of the thirteenth century, a license for the mining of "sea coal"=
was
granted by Henry III. Lastly, towards the end of the same century,
mention
is made of the Scotch and Welsh beds.
It
was about this time that Simon Ford's ancestors penetrated into the
bowels
of Caledonian earth, and lived there ever after, from father to
son.
They were but plain miners. They labored like convicts at the work
of
extracting the precious combustible. It is even believed that the
coal
miners, like the salt-makers of that period, were actual slaves.
However
that might have been, Simon Ford was proud of belonging to this
ancient
family of Scotch miners. He had worked diligently in the same
place
where his ancestors had wielded the pick, the crowbar, and the
mattock.
At thirty he was overman of the Dochart pit, the most important
in
the Aberfoyle colliery. He was devoted to his trade. During long
years
he zealously performed his duty. His only grief had been to
perceive
the bed becoming impoverished, and to see the hour approaching
when
the seam would be exhausted.
It
was then he devoted himself to the search for new veins in all the
Aberfoyle
pits, which communicated underground one with another. He
had
had the good luck to discover several during the last period of
the
working. His miner's instinct assisted him marvelously, and the
engineer,
James Starr, appreciated him highly. It might be said that
he
divined the course of seams in the depths of the coal mine as a
hydroscope
reveals springs in the bowels of the earth. He was par
excellence
the type of a miner whose whole existence is indissolubly
connected
with that of his mine. He had lived there from his birth, and
now
that the works were abandoned he wished to live there still. His son
Harry
foraged for the subterranean housekeeping; as for himself, during
those
ten years he had not been ten times above ground.
"Go
up there! What is the good?" he would say, and refused to leave his
black
domain. The place was remarkably healthy, subject to an equable
temperature;
the old overman endured neither the heat of summer nor
the
cold of winter. His family enjoyed good health; what more could he
desire?
But
at heart he felt depressed. He missed the former animation,
movement,
and life in the well-worked pit. He was, however, supported by
one
fixed idea. "No, no! the mine is not exhausted!" he repeated.
And
that man would have given serious offense who could have ventured
to
express before Simon Ford any doubt that old Aberfoyle would one day
revive!
He had never given up the hope of discovering some new bed which
would
restore the mine to its past splendor. Yes, he would willingly,
had
it been necessary, have resumed the miner's pick, and with his
still
stout arms vigorously attacked the rock. He went through the dark
galleries,
sometimes alone, sometimes with his son, examining, searching
for
signs of coal, only to return each day, wearied, but not in despair,
to
the cottage.
Madge,
Simon's faithful companion, his "gude-wife," to use the Scotch
term,
was a tall, strong, comely woman. Madge had no wish to leave the
Dochart
pit any more than had her husband. She shared all his hopes and
regrets.
She encouraged him, she urged him on, and talked to him in
a way
which cheered the heart of the old overman. "Aberfoyle is only
asleep,"
she would say. "You are right about that, Simon. This is but a
rest,
it is not death!"
Madge,
as well as the others, was perfectly satisfied to live
independent
of the outer world, and was the center of the happiness
enjoyed
by the little family in their dark cottage.
The
engineer was eagerly expected. Simon Ford was standing at his door,
and
as soon as Harry's lamp announced the arrival of his former viewer
he
advanced to meet him.
"Welcome,
Mr. Starr!" he exclaimed, his voice echoing under the roof
of
schist. "Welcome to the old overman's cottage! Though it is buried
fifteen
hundred feet under the earth, our house is not the less
hospitable."
"And
how are you, good Simon?" asked James Starr, grasping the hand
which
his host held out to him.
"Very
well, Mr. Starr. How could I be otherwise here, sheltered from
the
inclemencies of the weather? Your ladies who go to Newhaven or
Portobello
in the summer time would do much better to pass a few months
in
the coal mine of Aberfoyle! They would run no risk here of catching a
heavy
cold, as they do in the damp streets of the old capital."
"I'm
not the man to contradict you, Simon," answered James Starr, glad
to
find the old man just as he used to be. "Indeed, I wonder why I do
not
change my home in the Canongate for a cottage near you."
"And
why not, Mr. Starr? I know one of your old miners who would be
truly
pleased to have only a partition wall between you and him."
"And
how is Madge?" asked the engineer.
"The
goodwife is in better health than I am, if that's possible,"
replied
Ford, "and it will be a pleasure to her to see you at her table.
I
think she will surpass herself to do you honor."
"We
shall see that, Simon, we shall see that!" said the engineer, to
whom
the announcement of a good breakfast could not be indifferent,
after
his long walk.
"Are
you hungry, Mr. Starr?"
"Ravenously
hungry. My journey has given me an appetite. I came through
horrible
weather."
"Ah,
it is raining up there," responded Simon Ford.
"Yes,
Simon, and the waters of the
"Well,
Mr. Starr, here it never rains. But I needn't describe to you
all
the advantages, which you know as well as myself. Here we are at the
cottage.
That is the chief thing, and I again say you are welcome, sir."
Simon
Ford, followed by Harry, ushered their guest into the dwelling.
James
Starr found himself in a large room lighted by numerous lamps, one
hanging
from the colored beams of the roof.
"The soup is ready, wife," said Ford, "and it mustn't be kept waiting<= o:p>
any
more than Mr. Starr. He is as hungry as a miner, and he shall
see
that our boy doesn't let us want for anything in the cottage!
By-the-bye,
Harry," added the old overman, turning to his son, "Jack
Ryan
came here to see you."
"I
know, father. We met him in the Yarrow shaft."
"He's
an honest and a merry fellow," said Ford; "but he seems to be
quite
happy above ground. He hasn't the true miner's blood in his veins.
Sit
down, Mr. Starr, and have a good dinner, for we may not sup till
late."
As
the engineer and his hosts were taking their places:
"One
moment, Simon," said James Starr. "Do you want me to eat with a
good
appetite?"
"It
will be doing us all possible honor, Mr. Starr," answered Ford.
"Well,
in order to eat heartily, I must not be at all anxious. Now I
have
two questions to put to you."
"Go
on, sir."
"Your
letter told me of a communication which was to be of an
interesting
nature."
"It
is very interesting indeed."
"To
you?"
"To
you and to me, Mr. Starr. But I do not want to tell it you until
after
dinner, and on the very spot itself. Without that you would not
believe
me."
"Simon,"
resumed the engineer, "look me straight in the face. An
interesting
communication? Yes. Good! I will not ask more," he added, as
if he
had read the reply in the old overman's eyes.
"And
the second question?" asked the latter.
"Do
you know, Simon, who the person is who can have written this?"
answered
the engineer, handing him the anonymous letter.
Ford
took the letter and read it attentively. Then giving it to his son,
"Do
you know the writing?" he asked.
"No,
father," replied Harry.
"And
had this letter the Aberfoyle postmark?" inquired Simon Ford.
"Yes,
like yours," replied James Starr.
"What
do you think of that, Harry?" said his father, his brow darkening.
"I
think, father," returned Harry, "that someone has had some intere=
st
in
trying to prevent Mr. Starr from coming to the place where you
invited
him."
"But
who," exclaimed the old miner, "who could have possibly guessed
enough
of my secret?" And Simon fell into a reverie, from which he was
aroused
by his wife.
"Let
us begin, Mr. Starr," she said. "The soup is already getting cold=
.
Don't
think any more of that letter just now."
On
the old woman's invitation, each drew in his chair, James Starr
opposite
to Madge--to do him honor--the father and son opposite to each
other.
It was a good Scotch dinner. First they ate "hotchpotch," soup
with
the meat swimming in capital broth. As old Simon said, his wife
knew
no rival in the art of preparing hotchpotch. It was the same with
the
"cockyleeky," a cock stewed with leeks, which merited high praise=
.
The
whole was washed down with excellent ale, obtained from the best
brewery
in
But
the principal dish consisted of a "haggis," the national pudding,=
made
of meat and barley meal. This remarkable dish, which inspired the
poet
Burns with one of his best odes, shared the fate of all the good
things
in this world--it passed away like a dream.
Madge
received the sincere compliments of her guest. The dinner
ended
with cheese and oatcake, accompanied by a few small glasses of
"usquebaugh,"
capital whisky, five and twenty years old--just Harry's
age.
The repast lasted a good hour. James Starr and Simon Ford had not
only
eaten much, but talked much too, chiefly of their past life in the
old
Aberfoyle mine.
Harry
had been rather silent. Twice he had left the table, and even the
house.
He evidently felt uneasy since the incident of the stone, and
wished
to examine the environs of the cottage. The anonymous letter had
not
contributed to reassure him.
Whilst
he was absent, the engineer observed to Ford and his wife,
"That's
a fine lad you have there, my friends."
"Yes,
Mr. Starr, he is a good and affectionate son," replied the old
overman
earnestly.
"Is
he happy with you in the cottage?"
"He
would not wish to leave us."
"Don't
you think of finding him a wife, some day?"
"A
wife for Harry," exclaimed Ford. "And who would it be? A girl fro=
m up
yonder,
who would love merry-makings and dancing, who would prefer her
clan
to our mine! Harry wouldn't do it!"
"Simon,"
said Madge, "you would not forbid that Harry should take a
wife."
"I
would forbid nothing," returned the old miner, "but there's no hu=
rry
about
that. Who knows but we may find one for him--"
Harry
re-entered at that moment, and Simon Ford was silent.
When
Madge rose from the table, all followed her example, and seated
themselves
at the door of the cottage. "Well, Simon," said the engineer,
"I
am ready to hear you."
"Mr. Starr," responded Ford, "I do not need your ears, but your legs.<= o:p>
Are
you quite rested?"
"Quite
rested and quite refreshed, Simon. I am ready to go with you
wherever
you like."
"Harry,"
said Simon Ford, turning to his son, "light our safety lamps."
"Are
you going to take safety lamps!" exclaimed James Starr, in
amazement,
knowing that there was no fear of explosions of fire-damp in
a pit
quite empty of coal.
"Yes,
Mr. Starr, it will be prudent."
"My
good Simon, won't you propose next to put me in a miner's dress?"
"Not
just yet, sir, not just yet!" returned the old overman, his
deep-set
eyes gleaming strangely.
Harry
soon reappeared, carrying three safety lamps. He handed one of
these
to the engineer, the other to his father, and kept the third
hanging
from his left hand, whilst his right was armed with a long
stick.
"Forward!"
said Simon Ford, taking up a strong pick, which was leaning
against
the wall of the cottage.
"Forward!"
echoed the engineer. "Good-by, Madge."
"GOD
speed you!" responded the good woman.
"A
good supper, wife, do you hear?" exclaimed Ford. "We shall be hun=
gry
when
we come back, and will do it justice!"
MANY
superstitious beliefs exist both in the Highlands and
of
legends and fables to this mythological repertory. If the fields are
peopled
with imaginary beings, either good or bad, with much more reason
must
the dark mines be haunted to their lowest depths. Who shakes the
seam
during tempestuous nights? who puts the miners on the track of an
as
yet unworked vein? who lights the fire-damp, and presides over the
terrible
explosions? who but some spirit of the mine? This, at least,
was
the opinion commonly spread among the superstitious Scotch.
In
the first rank of the believers in the supernatural in the Dochart
pit
figured Jack Ryan, Harry's friend. He was the great partisan of
all
these superstitions. All these wild stories were turned by him into
songs,
which earned him great applause in the winter evenings.
But
Jack Ryan was not alone in his belief. His comrades affirmed, no
less
strongly, that the Aberfoyle pits were haunted, and that certain
strange
beings were seen there frequently, just as in the
hear
them talk, it would have been more extraordinary if nothing of the
kind
appeared. Could there indeed be a better place than a dark and deep
coal
mine for the freaks of fairies, elves, goblins, and other actors
in
the fantastical dramas? The scenery was all ready, why should not the
supernatural
personages come there to play their parts?
So
reasoned Jack Ryan and his comrades in the Aberfoyle mines. We have
said
that the different pits communicated with each other by means of
long
subterranean galleries. Thus there existed beneath the county of
and
perforated with shafts, a subterranean labyrinth, which might be
compared
to an enormous ant-hill.
Miners,
though belonging to different pits, often met, when going to or
returning
from their work. Consequently there was a constant opportunity
of
exchanging talk, and circulating the stories which had their origin
in
the mine, from one pit to another. These accounts were transmitted
with
marvelous rapidity, passing from mouth to mouth, and gaining in
wonder
as they went.
Two
men, however, better educated and with more practical minds than the
rest,
had always resisted this temptation. They in no degree believed
in
the intervention of spirits, elves, or goblins. These two were Simon
Ford
and his son. And they proved it by continuing to inhabit the dismal
crypt,
after the desertion of the Dochart pit. Perhaps good Madge, like
every
she
had to repeat all these stories to herself, and so she did, most
conscientiously,
so as not to let the old traditions be lost.
Even
had Simon and Harry Ford been as credulous as their companions,
they
would not have abandoned the mine to the imps and fairies. For ten
years,
without missing a single day, obstinate and immovable in their
convictions,
the father and son took their picks, their sticks, and
their
lamps. They went about searching, sounding the rock with a sharp
blow,
listening if it would return a favor-able sound. So long as the
soundings
had not been pushed to the granite of the primary formation,
the
Fords were agreed that the search, unsuccessful to-day, might
succeed
to-morrow, and that it ought to be resumed. They spent their
whole
life in endeavoring to bring Aberfoyle back to its former
prosperity.
If the father died before the hour of success, the son was
to go
on with the task alone.
It
was during these excursions that Harry was more particularly struck
by
certain phenomena, which he vainly sought to explain. Several times,
while
walking along some narrow cross-alley, he seemed to hear sounds
similar
to those which would be produced by violent blows of a pickax
against
the wall.
Harry
hastened to seek the cause of this mysterious work. The tunnel
was
empty. The light from the young miner's lamp, thrown on the wall,
revealed
no trace of any recent work with pick or crowbar. Harry would
then
ask himself if it was not the effect of some acoustic illusion, or
some
strange and fantastic echo. At other times, on suddenly throwing a
bright
light into a suspicious-looking cleft in the rock, he thought he
saw a
shadow. He rushed forward. Nothing, and there was no opening to
permit
a human being to evade his pursuit!
Twice
in one month, Harry, whilst visiting the west end of the pit,
distinctly
heard distant reports, as if some miner had exploded a charge
of
dynamite. The second time, after many careful researches, he found
that
a pillar had just been blown up.
By
the light of his lamp, Harry carefully examined the place attacked
by
the explosion. It had not been made in a simple embankment of stones,
but
in a mass of schist, which had penetrated to this depth in the coal
stratum.
Had the object of the explosion been to discover a new vein? Or
had
someone wished simply to destroy this portion of the mine? Thus
he
questioned, and when he made known this occurrence to his father,
neither
could the old overman nor he himself answer the question in a
satisfactory
way.
"It
is very queer," Harry often repeated. "The presence of an unknown=
being
in the mine seems impossible, and yet there can be no doubt
about
it. Does someone besides ourselves wish to find out if a seam
yet
exists? Or, rather, has he attempted to destroy what remains of the
Aberfoyle
mines? But for what reason? I will find that out, if it should
cost
me my life!"
A
fortnight before the day on which Harry Ford guided the engineer
through
the labyrinth of the Dochart pit, he had been on the point of
attaining
the object of his search. He was going over the southwest end
of
the mine, with a large lantern in his hand. All at once, it seemed
to
him that a light was suddenly extinguished, some hundred feet before
him,
at the end of a narrow passage cut obliquely through the rock. He
darted
forward.
His
search was in vain. As Harry would not admit a supernatural
explanation
for a physical occurrence, he concluded that certainly
some
strange being prowled about in the pit. But whatever he could do,
searching
with the greatest care, scrutinizing every crevice in the
gallery,
he found nothing for his trouble.
If
Jack Ryan and the other superstitious fellows in the mine had seen
these
lights, they would, without fail, have called them supernatural,
but
Harry did not dream of doing so, nor did his father. And when they
talked
over these phenomena, evidently due to a physical cause, "My
lad,"
the old man would say, "we must wait. It will all be explained
some
day."
However,
it must be observed that, hitherto, neither Harry nor his
father
had ever been exposed to any act of violence. If the stone which
had
fallen at the feet of James Starr had been thrown by the hand
of
some ill-disposed person, it was the first criminal act of that
description.
James
Starr was of opinion that the stone had become detached from
the
roof of the gallery; but Harry would not admit of such a simple
explanation.
According to him, the stone had not fallen, it had been
thrown;
for otherwise, without rebounding, it could never have described
a
trajectory as it did.
Harry
saw in it a direct attempt against himself and his father, or even
against
the engineer.
THE
old clock in the cottage struck one as James Starr and his two
companions
went out. A dim light penetrated through the ventilating
shaft
into the glade. Harry's lamp was not necessary here, but it
would
very soon be of use, for the old overman was about to conduct the
engineer
to the very end of the Dochart pit.
After
following the principal gallery for a distance of two miles,
the
three explorers--for, as will be seen, this was a regular
exploration--arrived
at the entrance of a narrow tunnel. It was like a
nave,
the roof of which rested on woodwork, covered with white moss. It
followed
very nearly the line traced by the course of the river
fifteen
hundred feet above.
"So
we are going to the end of the last vein?" said James Starr.
"Ay!
You know the mine well still."
"Well,
Simon," returned the engineer, "it will be difficult to go
further
than that, if I don't mistake."
"Yes,
indeed, Mr. Starr. That was where our picks tore out the last bit
of
coal in the seam. I remember it as if it were yesterday. I myself
gave
that last blow, and it re-echoed in my heart more dismally than on
the
rock. Only sandstone and schist were round us after that, and when
the
truck rolled towards the shaft, I followed, with my heart as full as
though
it were a funeral. It seemed to me that the soul of the mine was
going
with it."
The
gravity with which the old man uttered these words impressed the
engineer,
who was not far from sharing his sentiments. They were those
of
the sailor who leaves his disabled vessel--of the proprietor who sees
the
house of his ancestors pulled down. He pressed Ford's hand; but now
the
latter seized that of the engineer, and, wringing it:
"That day we were all of us mistaken," he exclaimed. "No! The old mine<= o:p>
was
not dead. It was not a corpse that the miners abandoned; and I dare
to
assert, Mr. Starr, that its heart beats still."
"Speak,
Ford! Have you discovered a new vein?" cried the engineer,
unable
to contain himself. "I know you have! Your letter could mean
nothing
else."
"Mr.
Starr," said Simon Ford, "I did not wish to tell any man but
yourself."
"And
you did quite right, Ford. But tell me how, by what signs, are you
sure?"
"Listen,
sir!" resumed Simon. "It is not a seam that I have found."
"What
is it, then?"
"Only
positive proof that such a seam exists."
"And
the proof?"
"Could
fire-damp issue from the bowels of the earth if coal was not
there
to produce it?"
"No, certainly not!" replied the engineer. "No coal, no fire-damp. No<= o:p>
effects
without a cause."
"Just
as no smoke without fire."
"And
have you recognized the presence of light carburetted hydrogen?"
"An
old miner could not be deceived," answered Ford. "I have met with=
our
old enemy, the fire-damp!"
"But
suppose it was another gas," said Starr. "Firedamp is almost
without
smell, and colorless. It only really betrays its presence by an
explosion."
"Mr.
Starr," said Simon Ford, "will you let me tell you what I have
done?
Harry had once or twice observed something remarkable in his
excursions
to the west end of the mine. Fire, which suddenly went out,
sometimes
appeared along the face of the rock or on the embankment of
the
further galleries. How those flames were lighted, I could not and
cannot
say. But they were evidently owing to the presence of fire-damp,
and
to me fire-damp means a vein of coal."
"Did
not these fires cause any explosion?" asked the engineer quickly.
"Yes,
little partial explosions," replied Ford, "such as I used to caus=
e
myself
when I wished to ascertain the presence of fire-damp. Do you
remember
how formerly it was the custom to try to prevent explosions
before
our good genius, Humphry Davy, invented his safety-lamp?"
"Yes,"
replied James Starr. "You mean what the 'monk,' as the men called
him,
used to do. But I have never seen him in the exercise of his duty."
"Indeed,
Mr. Starr, you are too young, in spite of your five-and-fifty
years,
to have seen that. But I, ten years older, often saw the last
'monk'
working in the mine. He was called so because he wore a long robe
like
a monk. His proper name was the 'fireman.' At that time there was
no
other means of destroying the bad gas but by dispersing it in little
explosions,
before its buoyancy had collected it in too great quantities
in
the heights of the galleries. The monk, as we called him, with his
face
masked, his head muffled up, all his body tightly wrapped in a
thick
felt cloak, crawled along the ground. He could breathe down there,
when
the air was pure; and with his right hand he waved above his head
a
blazing torch. When the firedamp had accumulated in the air, so as to
form
a detonating mixture, the explosion occurred without being fatal,
and,
by often renewing this operation, catastrophes were prevented.
Sometimes
the 'monk' was injured or killed in his work, then another
took
his place. This was done in all mines until the Davy lamp was
universally
adopted. But I knew the plan, and by its means I discovered
the
presence of firedamp and consequently that of a new seam of coal in
the
Dochart pit."
All
that the old overman had related of the so-called "monk" or
"fireman"
was perfectly true. The air in the galleries of mines was
formerly
always purified in the way described.
Fire-damp,
marsh-gas, or carburetted hydrogen, is colorless, almost
scentless;
it burns with a blue flame, and makes respiration impossible.
The
miner could not live in a place filled with this injurious gas, any
more
than one could live in a gasometer full of common gas. Moreover,
fire-damp,
as well as the latter, a mixture of inflammable gases, forms
a
detonating mixture as soon as the air unites with it in a proportion
of
eight, and perhaps even five to the hundred. When this mixture is
lighted
by any cause, there is an explosion, almost always followed by a
frightful
catastrophe.
As
they walked on, Simon Ford told the engineer all that he had done
to
attain his object; how he was sure that the escape of fire-damp
took
place at the very end of the farthest gallery in its western part,
because
he had provoked small and partial explosions, or rather little
flames,
enough to show the nature of the gas, which escaped in a small
jet,
but with a continuous flow.
An
hour after leaving the cottage, James Starr and his two companions
had
gone a distance of four miles. The engineer, urged by anxiety and
hope,
walked on without noticing the length of the way. He pondered
over
all that the old miner had told him, and mentally weighed all the
arguments
which the latter had given in support of his belief. He agreed
with
him in thinking that the continued emission of carburetted hydrogen
certainly
showed the existence of a new coal-seam. If it had been merely
a
sort of pocket, full of gas, as it is sometimes found amongst the
rock,
it would soon have been empty, and the phenomenon have ceased.
But
far from that. According to Simon Ford, the fire-damp escaped
incessantly,
and from that fact the existence of an important vein might
be
considered certain. Consequently, the riches of the Dochart pit were
not
entirely exhausted. The chief question now was, whether this was
merely
a vein which would yield comparatively little, or a bed occupying
a
large extent.
Harry,
who preceded his father and the engineer, stopped.
"Here
we are!" exclaimed the old miner. "At last, thank Heaven! you
are
here, Mr. Starr, and we shall soon know." The old overman's voice
trembled
slightly.
"Be
calm, my man!" said the engineer. "I am as excited as you are, bu=
t
we
must not lose time."
The
gallery at this end of the pit widened into a sort of dark cave.
No
shaft had been pierced in this part, and the gallery, bored into the
bowels
of the earth, had no direct communication with the surface of the
earth.
James
Starr, with intense interest, examined the place in which they
were
standing. On the walls of the cavern the marks of the pick could
still
be seen, and even holes in which the rock had been blasted, near
the
termination of the working. The schist was excessively hard, and it
had
not been necessary to bank up the end of the tunnel where the works
had
come to an end. There the vein had failed, between the schist and
the
tertiary sandstone. From this very place had been extracted the last
piece
of coal from the Dochart pit.
"We
must attack the dyke," said Ford, raising his pick; "for at the
other
side of the break, at more or less depth, we shall assuredly find
the
vein, the existence of which I assert."
"And
was it on the surface of these rocks that you found out the
fire-damp?"
asked James Starr.
"Just
there, sir," returned Ford, "and I was able to light it only by
bringing
my lamp near to the cracks in the rock. Harry has done it as
well
as I."
"At
what height?" asked Starr.
"Ten
feet from the ground," replied Harry.
James
Starr had seated himself on a rock. After critically inhaling the
air
of the cavern, he gazed at the two miners, almost as if doubting
their
words, decided as they were. In fact, carburetted hydrogen is not
completely
scentless, and the engineer, whose sense of smell was very
keen,
was astonished that it had not revealed the presence of the
explosive
gas. At any rate, if the gas had mingled at all with the
surrounding
air, it could only be in a very small stream. There was no
danger
of an explosion, and they might without fear open the safety lamp
to
try the experiment, just as the old miner had done before.
What
troubled James Starr was, not lest too much gas mingled with the
air,
but lest there should be little or none.
"Could
they have been mistaken?" he murmured. "No: these men know what
they
are about. And yet--"
He
waited, not without some anxiety, until Simon Ford's phenomenon
should
have taken place. But just then it seemed that Harry, like
himself,
had remarked the absence of the characteristic odor of
fire-damp;
for he exclaimed in an altered voice, "Father, I should say
the
gas was no longer escaping through the cracks!"
"No
longer!" cried the old miner--and, pressing his lips tight together,
he
snuffed the air several times.
Then, all at once, with a sudden movement, "Hand me your lamp, Harry,"<= o:p>
he
said.
Ford
took the lamp with a trembling hand. He drew off the wire gauze
case
which surrounded the wick, and the flame burned in the open air.
As
they had expected, there was no explosion, but, what was more
serious,
there was not even the slight crackling which indicates the
presence
of a small quantity of firedamp. Simon took the stick which
Harry
was holding, fixed his lamp to the end of it, and raised it high
above
his head, up to where the gas, by reason of its buoyancy, would
naturally
accumulate. The flame of the lamp, burning straight and clear,
revealed
no trace of the carburetted hydrogen.
"Close
to the wall," said the engineer.
"Yes,"
responded Ford, carrying the lamp to that part of the wall at
which
he and his son had, the evening before, proved the escape of gas.
The
old miner's arm trembled whilst he tried to hoist the lamp up. "Take
my
place, Harry," said he.
Harry
took the stick, and successively presented the lamp to the
different
fissures in the rock; but he shook his head, for of that
slight
crackling peculiar to escaping fire-damp he heard nothing. There
was
no flame. Evidently not a particle of gas was escaping through the
rock.
"Nothing!"
cried Ford, clenching his fist with a gesture rather of anger
than
disappointment.
A cry
escaped Harry.
"What's
the matter?" asked Starr quickly.
"Someone
has stopped up the cracks in the schist!"
"Is
that true?" exclaimed the old miner.
"Look,
father!" Harry was not mistaken. The obstruction of the fissures
was
clearly visible by the light of the lamp. It had been recently done
with
lime, leaving on the rock a long whitish mark, badly concealed with
coal
dust.
"It's
he!" exclaimed Harry. "It can only be he!"
"He?"
repeated James Starr in amazement.
"Yes!"
returned the young man, "that mysterious being who haunts our
domain,
for whom I have watched a hundred times without being able to
get
at him--the author, we may now be certain, of that letter which was
intended
to hinder you from coming to see my father, Mr. Starr, and who
finally
threw that stone at us in the gallery of the Yarrow shaft! Ah!
there's
no doubt about it; there is a man's hand in all that!"
Harry
spoke with such energy that conviction came instantly and fully
to the
engineer's mind. As to the old overman, he was already convinced.
Besides,
there they were in the presence of an undeniable fact--the
stopping-up
of cracks through which gas had escaped freely the night
before.
"Take
your pick, Harry," cried Ford; "mount on my shoulders, my lad!
I am
still strong enough to bear you!" The young man understood in an
instant.
His father propped himself up against the rock. Harry got upon
his
shoulders, so that with his pick he could reach the line of the
fissure.
Then with quick sharp blows he attacked it. Almost directly
afterwards
a slight sound was heard, like champagne escaping from a
bottle--a
sound commonly expressed by the word "puff."
Harry
again seized his lamp, and held it to the opening. There was
a
slight report; and a little red flame, rather blue at its outline,
flickered
over the rock like a Will-o'-the-Wisp.
Harry
leaped to the ground, and the old overman, unable to contain his
joy,
grasped the engineer's hands, exclaiming, "Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Mr.
Starr. The fire-damp burns! the vein is there!"
THE
old overman's experiment had succeeded. Firedamp, it is well known,
is
only generated in coal seams; therefore the existence of a vein of
precious
combustible could no longer be doubted. As to its size and
quality,
that must be determined later.
"Yes,"
thought James Starr, "behind that wall lies a carboniferous bed,
undiscovered
by our soundings. It is vexatious that all the apparatus
of
the mine, deserted for ten years, must be set up anew. Never mind. We
have
found the vein which was thought to be exhausted, and this time it
shall
be worked to the end!"
"Well, Mr. Starr," asked Ford, "what do you think of our discovery? Was<= o:p>
I
wrong to trouble you? Are you sorry to have paid this visit to the
Dochart
pit?"
"No,
no, my old friend!" answered Starr. "We have not lost our time;
but
we shall be losing it now, if we do not return immediately to the
cottage.
To-morrow we will come back here. We will blast this wall
with
dynamite. We will lay open the new vein, and after a series of
soundings,
if the seam appears to be large, I will form a new Aberfoyle
Company,
to the great satisfaction of the old shareholders. Before three
months
have passed, the first corves full of coal will have been taken
from
the new vein."
"Well
said, sir!" cried Simon Ford. "The old mine will grow young again=
,
like
a widow who remarries! The bustle of the old days will soon begin
with
the blows of the pick, and mattock, blasts of powder, rumbling of
wagons,
neighing of horses, creaking of machines! I shall see it all
again!
I hope, Mr. Starr, that you will not think me too old to resume
my
duties of overman?"
"No,
Simon, no indeed! You wear better than I do, my old friend!"
"And,
sir, you shall be our viewer again. May the new working last
for
many years, and pray Heaven I shall have the consolation of dying
without
seeing the end of it!"
The
old miner was overflowing with joy. James Starr fully entered into
it;
but he let Ford rave for them both. Harry alone remained thoughtful.
To
his memory recurred the succession of singular, inexplicable
circumstances
attending the discovery of the new bed. It made him uneasy
about
the future.
An
hour afterwards, James Starr and his two companions were back in
the
cottage. The engineer supped with good appetite, listening with
satisfaction
to all the plans unfolded by the old overman; and had it
not
been for his excitement about the next day's work, he would never
have
slept better than in the perfect stillness of the cottage.
The
following day, after a substantial breakfast, James Starr, Simon
Ford,
Harry, and even Madge herself, took the road already traversed
the
day before. All looked like regular miners. They carried different
tools,
and some dynamite with which to blast the rock. Harry, besides a
large
lantern, took a safety lamp, which would burn for twelve hours.
It
was more than was necessary for the journey there and back, including
the
time for the working--supposing a working was possible.
"To
work! to work!" shouted Ford, when the party reached the further end
of
the passage; and he grasped a heavy crowbar and brandished it.
"Stop
one instant," said Starr. "Let us see if any change has taken
place,
and if the fire-damp still escapes through the crevices."
"You
are right, Mr. Starr," said Harry. "Whoever stopped it up yesterd=
ay
may
have done it again to-day!"
Madge,
seated on a rock, carefully observed the excavation, and the wall
which
was to be blasted.
It
was found that everything was just as they left it. The crevices
had
undergone no alteration; the carburetted hydrogen still filtered
through,
though in a small stream, which was no doubt because it had had
a
free passage since the day before. As the quantity was so small, it
could
not have formed an explosive mixture with the air inside. James
Starr
and his companions could therefore proceed in security. Besides,
the
air grew purer by rising to the heights of the Dochart pit; and the
fire-damp,
spreading through the atmosphere, would not be strong enough
to
make any explosion.
"To
work, then!" repeated Ford; and soon the rock flew in splinters
under
his skillful blows. The break was chiefly composed of
pudding-stone,
interspersed with sandstone and schist, such as is most
often
met with between the coal veins. James Starr picked up some of the
pieces,
and examined them carefully, hoping to discover some trace of
coal.
Starr
having chosen the place where the holes were to be drilled, they
were
rapidly bored by Harry. Some cartridges of dynamite were put into
them.
As soon as the long, tarred safety match was laid, it was lighted
on a
level with the ground. James Starr and his companions then went off
to
some distance.
"Oh!
Mr. Starr," said Simon Ford, a prey to agitation, which he did not
attempt
to conceal, "never, no, never has my old heart beaten so quick
before!
I am longing to get at the vein!"
"Patience,
Simon!" responded the engineer. "You don't mean to say that
you
think you are going to find a passage all ready open behind that
dyke?"
"Excuse
me, sir," answered the old overman; "but of course I think so!
If
there was good luck in the way Harry and I discovered this place, why
shouldn't
the good luck go on?"
As he
spoke, came the explosion. A sound as of thunder rolled through
the
labyrinth of subterranean galleries. Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon
Ford
hastened towards the spot.
"Mr.
Starr! Mr. Starr!" shouted the overman. "Look! the door is broken=
open!"
Ford's
comparison was justified by the appearance of an excavation,
the
depth of which could not be calculated. Harry was about to spring
through
the opening; but the engineer, though excessively surprised to
find
this cavity, held him back. "Allow time for the air in there to get
pure,"
said he.
"Yes!
beware of the foul air!" said Simon.
A quarter
of an hour was passed in anxious waiting. The lantern was then
fastened
to the end of a stick, and introduced into the cave, where it
continued
to burn with unaltered brilliancy. "Now then, Harry, go," said
Starr,
"and we will follow you."
The
opening made by the dynamite was sufficiently large to allow a
man
to pass through. Harry, lamp in hand, entered unhesitatingly, and
disappeared
in the darkness. His father, mother, and James Starr waited
in
silence. A minute--which seemed to them much longer--passed. Harry
did
not reappear, did not call. Gazing into the opening, James
Starr
could not even see the light of his lamp, which ought to have
illuminated
the dark cavern.
Had
the ground suddenly given way under Harry's feet? Had the young
miner
fallen into some crevice? Could his voice no longer reach his
companions?
The
old overman, dead to their remonstrances, was about to enter the
opening,
when a light appeared, dim at first, but gradually growing
brighter,
and Harry's voice was heard shouting, "Come, Mr. Starr! come,
father!
The road to New Aberfoyle is open!"
If,
by some superhuman power, engineers could have raised in a block,
a
thousand feet thick, all that portion of the terrestrial crust which
supports
the lakes, rivers, gulfs, and territories of the counties of
enormous
lid, an immense excavation, to which but one other in the
world
can be compared--the celebrated Mammoth caves of
excavation
was composed of several hundred divisions of all sizes and
shapes.
It might be called a hive with numberless ranges of cells,
capriciously
arranged, but a hive on a vast scale, and which, instead
of
bees, might have lodged all the ichthyosauri, megatheriums, and
pterodactyles
of the geological epoch.
A
labyrinth of galleries, some higher than the most lofty cathedrals,
others
like cloisters, narrow and winding--these following a
horizontal
line, those on an incline or running obliquely in all
directions--connected
the caverns and allowed free communication between
them.
The
pillars sustaining the vaulted roofs, whose curves allowed of every
style,
the massive walls between the passages, the naves themselves
in
this layer of secondary formation, were composed of sandstone and
schistous
rocks. But tightly packed between these useless strata ran
valuable
veins of coal, as if the black blood of this strange mine had
circulated
through their tangled network. These fields extended forty
miles
north and south, and stretched even under the Caledonian
Canal.
The importance of this bed could not be calculated until
after
soundings, but it would certainly surpass those of Cardiff
We
may add that the working of this mine would be singularly facilitated
by
the fantastic dispositions of the secondary earths; for by an
unaccountable
retreat of the mineral matter at the geological epoch,
when
the mass was solidifying, nature had already multiplied the
galleries
and tunnels of New Aberfoyle.
Yes,
nature alone! It might at first have been supposed that some works
abandoned
for centuries had been discovered afresh. Nothing of the sort.
No
one would have deserted such riches. Human termites had never gnawed
away
this part of the Scottish subsoil; nature herself had done it
all.
But, we repeat, it could be compared to nothing but the celebrated
Mammoth
caves, which, in an extent of more than twenty miles, contain
two
hundred and twenty-six avenues, eleven lakes, seven rivers, eight
cataracts,
thirty-two unfathomable wells, and fifty-seven domes, some
of
which are more than four hundred and fifty feet in height. Like
these
caves, New Aberfoyle was not the work of men, but the work of the
Creator.
Such
was this new domain, of matchless wealth, the discovery of which
belonged
entirely to the old overman. Ten years' sojourn in the deserted
mine,
an uncommon pertinacity in research, perfect faith, sustained by
a
marvelous mining instinct--all these qualities together led him to
succeed
where so many others had failed. Why had the soundings made
under
the direction of James Starr during the last years of the working
stopped
just at that limit, on the very frontier of the new mine? That
was
all chance, which takes great part in researches of this kind.
However
that might be, there was, under the Scottish subsoil, what might
be
called a subterranean county, which, to be habitable, needed only the
rays
of the sun, or, for want of that, the light of a special planet.
Water
had collected in various hollows, forming vast ponds, or rather
lakes
larger than Loch Katrine, lying just above them. Of course the
waters
of these lakes had no movement of currents or tides; no old
castle
was reflected there; no birch or oak trees waved on their banks.
And
yet these deep lakes, whose mirror-like surface was never ruffled by
a
breeze, would not be without charm by the light of some electric star,
and,
connected by a string of canals, would well complete the geography
of
this strange domain.
Although
unfit for any vegetable production, the place could be
inhabited
by a whole population. And who knows but that in this steady
temperature,
in the depths of the mines of Aberfoyle, as well as in
those
of
been
exhausted--who knows but that the poorer classes of
will
some day find a refuge?
AT
Harry's call, James Starr, Madge, and Simon Ford entered through the
narrow
orifice which put the Dochart pit in communication with the
new
mine. They found themselves at the beginning of a tolerably wide
gallery.
One might well believe that it had been pierced by the hand of
man,
that the pick and mattock had emptied it in the working of a new
vein.
The explorers question whether, by a strange chance, they had not
been
transported into some ancient mine, of the existence of which even
the
oldest miners in the county had ever known.
No!
It was merely that the geological layers had left this passage when
the
secondary earths were in course of formation. Perhaps some torrent
had
formerly dashed through it; but now it was as dry as if it had been
cut
some thousand feet lower, through granite rocks. At the same time,
the
air circulated freely, which showed that certain natural vents
placed
it in communication with the exterior atmosphere.
This
observation, made by the engineer, was correct, and it was evident
that
the ventilation of the new mine would be easily managed. As to the
fire-damp
which had lately filtered through the schist, it seemed to
have
been contained in a pocket now empty, and it was certain that
the
atmosphere of the gallery was quite free from it. However, Harry
prudently
carried only the safety lamp, which would insure light for
twelve
hours.
James
Starr and his companions now felt perfectly happy. All their
wishes
were satisfied. There was nothing but coal around them. A sort
of
emotion kept them silent; even Simon Ford restrained himself. His joy
overflowed,
not in long phrases, but in short ejaculations.
It
was perhaps imprudent to venture so far into the crypt. Pooh! they
never
thought of how they were to get back.
The
gallery was practicable, not very winding. They met with no noxious
exhalations,
nor did any chasm bar the path. There was no reason for
stopping
for a whole hour; James Starr, Madge, Harry, and Simon Ford
walked
on, though there was nothing to show them what was the exact
direction
of this unknown tunnel.
And
they would no doubt have gone farther still, if they had not
suddenly
come to the end of the wide road which they had followed since
their
entrance into the mine.
The
gallery ended in an enormous cavern, neither the height nor depth
of
which could be calculated. At what altitude arched the roof of this
excavation--at
what distance was its opposite wall--the darkness totally
concealed;
but by the light of the lamp the explorers could discover
that
its dome covered a vast extent of still water--pond or lake--whose
picturesque
rocky banks were lost in obscurity.
"Halt!"
exclaimed Ford, stopping suddenly. "Another step, and perhaps we
shall
fall into some fathomless pit."
"Let
us rest awhile, then, my friends," returned the engineer. "Beside=
s,
we
ought to be thinking of returning to the cottage."
"Our
lamp will give light for another ten hours, sir," said Harry.
"Well, let us make a halt," replied Starr; "I confess my legs have need<= o:p>
of a
rest. And you, Madge, don't you feel tired after so long a walk?"
"Not
over much, Mr. Starr," replied the sturdy Scotchwoman; "we have
been
accustomed to explore the old Aberfoyle mine for whole days
together."
"Tired?
nonsense!" interrupted Simon Ford; "Madge could go ten times
as
far, if necessary. But once more, Mr. Starr, wasn't my communication
worth
your trouble in coming to hear it? Just dare to say no, Mr. Starr,
dare
to say no!"
"Well,
my old friend, I haven't felt so happy for a long while!" replied
the
engineer; "the small part of this marvelous mine that we have
explored
seems to show that its extent is very considerable, at least in
length."
"In
width and in depth, too, Mr. Starr!" returned Simon Ford.
"That
we shall know later."
"And
I can answer for it! Trust to the instinct of an old miner! It has
never
deceived me!"
"I
wish to believe you, Simon," replied the engineer, smiling. "As f=
ar
as I
can judge from this short exploration, we possess the elements of a
working
which will last for centuries!"
"Centuries!"
exclaimed Simon Ford; "I believe you, sir! A thousand years
and
more will pass before the last bit of coal is taken out of our new
mine!"
"Heaven
grant it!" returned Starr. "As to the quality of the coal which
crops
out of these walls?"
"Superb!
Mr. Starr, superb!" answered Ford; "just look at it yourself!&quo=
t;
And
so saying, with his pick he struck off a fragment of the black rock.
"Look!
look!" he repeated, holding it close to his lamp; "the surface of=
this
piece of coal is shining! We have here fat coal, rich in bituminous
matter;
and see how it comes in pieces, almost without dust! Ah, Mr.
Starr!
twenty years ago this seam would have entered into a strong
competition
with
still,
and if it costs little to extract it from the mine, it will not
sell
at a less price outside."
"Indeed,"
said Madge, who had taken the fragment of coal and was
examining
it with the air of a connoisseur; "that's good quality of
coal.
Carry it home, Simon, carry it back to the cottage! I want this
first
piece of coal to burn under our kettle."
"Well said, wife!" answered the old overman, "and you shall see that I<= o:p>
am
not mistaken."
"Mr.
Starr," asked Harry, "have you any idea of the probable direction=
of
this long passage which we have been following since our entrance
into
the new mine?"
"No,
my lad," replied the engineer; "with a compass I could perhaps fi=
nd
out
its general bearing; but without a compass I am here like a sailor
in
open sea, in the midst of fogs, when there is no sun by which to
calculate
his position."
"No
doubt, Mr. Starr," replied Ford; "but pray don't compare our
position
with that of the sailor, who has everywhere and always an abyss
under
his feet! We are on firm ground here, and need never be afraid of
foundering."
"I
won't tease you, then, old Simon," answered James Starr. "Far be =
it
from
me even in jest to depreciate the New Aberfoyle mine by an unjust
comparison!
I only meant to say one thing, and that is that we don't
know
where we are."
"We
are in the subsoil of the
Simon
Ford; "and that I assert as if--"
"Listen!"
said Harry, interrupting the old man. All listened, as the
young
miner was doing. His ears, which were very sharp, had caught
a
dull sound, like a distant murmur. His companions were not long in
hearing
it themselves. It was above their heads, a sort of rolling
sound,
in which though it was so feeble, the successive CRESCENDO and
DIMINUENDO
could be distinctly heard.
All
four stood for some minutes, their ears on the stretch, without
uttering
a word. All at once Simon Ford exclaimed, "Well, I declare! Are
trucks
already running on the rails of New Aberfoyle?"
"Father,"
replied Harry, "it sounds to me just like the noise made by
waves
rolling on the sea shore."
"We
can't be under the sea though!" cried the old overman.
"No,"
said the engineer, "but it is not impossible that we should be
under
"The
roof cannot have much thickness just here, if the noise of the
water
is perceptible."
"Very
little indeed," answered James Starr, "and that is the reason thi=
s
cavern
is so huge."
"You
must be right, Mr. Starr," said Harry.
"Besides,
the weather is so bad outside," resumed Starr, "that the
waters
of the loch must be as rough as those of the Firth of Forth."
"Well!
what does it matter after all?" returned Simon Ford; "the seam
won't
be any the worse because it is under a loch. It would not be
the
first time that coal has been looked for under the very bed of the
ocean!
When we have to work under the bottom of the
where
will be the harm?"
"Well
said, Simon," cried the engineer, who could not restrain a smile
at
the overman's enthusiasm; "let us cut our trenches under the waters
of
the sea! Let us bore the bed of the
us
with our picks join our brethren of the
the
subsoil of the ocean! let us dig into the center of the globe if
necessary,
to tear out the last scrap of coal."
"Are
you joking, Mr. Starr?" asked Ford, with a pleased but slightly
suspicious
look.
"I
joking, old man? no! but you are so enthusiastic that you carry
me
away into the regions of impossibility! Come, let us return to the
reality,
which is sufficiently beautiful; leave our picks here, where we
may
find them another day, and let's take the road back to the cottage."
Nothing
more could be done for the time. Later, the engineer,
accompanied
by a brigade of miners, supplied with lamps and all
necessary
tools, would resume the exploration of New Aberfoyle. It was
now
time to return to the Dochart pit. The road was easy, the gallery
running
nearly straight through the rock up to the orifice opened by the
dynamite,
so there was no fear of their losing themselves.
But
as James Starr was proceeding towards the gallery Simon Ford stopped
him.
"Mr. Starr," said he, "you see this immense cavern, this subterranean<= o:p>
lake,
whose waters bathe this strand at our feet? Well! it is to this
place
I mean to change my dwelling, here I will build a new cottage,
and
if some brave fellows will follow my example, before a year is over
there
will be one town more inside old
James
Starr, smiling approval of Ford's plans, pressed his hand, and all
three,
preceding Madge, re-entered the gallery, on their way back to
the
Dochart pit. For the first mile no incident occurred. Harry walked
first,
holding his lamp above his head. He carefully followed the
principal
gallery, without ever turning aside into the narrow tunnels
which
radiated to the right and left. It seemed as if the returning was
to be
accomplished as easily as the going, when an unexpected accident
occurred
which rendered the situation of the explorers very serious.
Just
at a moment when Harry was raising his lamp there came a rush of
air,
as if caused by the flapping of invisible wings. The lamp escaped
from
his hands, fell on the rocky ground, and was broken to pieces.
James
Starr and his companions were suddenly plunged in absolute
darkness.
All the oil of the lamp was spilt, and it was of no further
use.
"Well, Harry," cried his father, "do you want us all to break
our
necks
on the way back to the cottage?"
Harry
did not answer. He wondered if he ought to suspect the hand of a
mysterious
being in this last accident? Could there possibly exist
in
these depths an enemy whose unaccountable antagonism would one day
create
serious difficulties? Had someone an interest in defending the
new
coal field against any attempt at working it? In truth that seemed
absurd,
yet the facts spoke for themselves, and they accumulated in such
a way
as to change simple presumptions into certainties.
In
the meantime the explorers' situation was bad enough. They had now,
in
the midst of black darkness, to follow the passage leading to the
Dochart
pit for nearly five miles. There they would still have an hour's
walk
before reaching the cottage.
"Come along," said Simon Ford. "We have no time to lose. We must grope<= o:p>
our
way along, like blind men. There's no fear of losing our way. The
tunnels
which open off our road are only just like those in a molehill,
and
by following the chief gallery we shall of course reach the opening
we
got in at. After that, it is the old mine. We know that, and it won't
be
the first time that Harry and I have found ourselves there in the
dark.
Besides, there we shall find the lamps that we left. Forward then!
Harry,
go first. Mr. Starr, follow him. Madge, you go next, and I will
bring
up the rear. Above everything, don't let us get separated."
All
complied with the old overman's instructions. As he said, by groping
carefully,
they could not mistake the way. It was only necessary to make
the
hands take the place of the eyes, and to trust to their instinct,
which
had with Simon Ford and his son become a second nature.
James
Starr and his companions walked on in the order agreed. They did
not
speak, but it was not for want of thinking. It became evident that
they
had an adversary. But what was he, and how were they to defend
themselves
against these mysteriously-prepared attacks? These
disquieting
ideas crowded into their brains. However, this was not the
moment
to get discouraged.
Harry,
his arms extended, advanced with a firm step, touching first one
and
then the other side of the passage.
If a
cleft or side opening presented itself, he felt with his hand
that
it was not the main way; either the cleft was too shallow, or the
opening
too narrow, and he thus kept in the right road.
In
darkness through which the eye could not in the slightest degree
pierce,
this difficult return lasted two hours. By reckoning the time
since
they started, taking into consideration that the walking had not
been
rapid, Starr calculated that he and his companions were near the
opening.
In fact, almost immediately, Harry stopped.
"Have
we got to the end of the gallery?" asked Simon Ford.
"Yes,"
answered the young miner.
"Well!
have you not found the hole which connects New Aberfoyle with the
Dochart
pit?"
"No,"
replied Harry, whose impatient hands met with nothing but a solid
wall.
The
old overman stepped forward, and himself felt the schistous rock. A
cry
escaped him.
Either
the explorers had strayed from the right path on their return,
or
the narrow orifice, broken in the rock by the dynamite, had been
recently
stopped up. James Starr and his companions were prisoners in
New
Aberfoyle.
A
WEEK after the events just related had taken place, James Starr's
friends
had become very anxious. The engineer had disappeared, and no
reason
could be brought forward to explain his absence. They learnt, by
questioning
his servant, that he had embarked at Granton Pier. But from
that
time there were no traces of James Starr. Simon Ford's letter had
requested
secrecy, and he had said nothing of his departure for the
Aberfoyle
mines.
Therefore
in
absence
of the engineer. Sir W. Elphiston, the President of the Royal
Institution,
communicated to his colleagues a letter which James Starr
had
sent him, excusing himself from being present at the next meeting
of
the society. Two or three others produced similar letters. But though
these
documents proved that Starr had left
before--they
threw no light on what had become of him. Now, on the part
of
such a man, this prolonged absence, so contrary to his usual habits,
naturally
first caused surprise, and then anxiety.
A
notice was inserted in the principal newspapers of the
relative
to the engineer James Starr, giving a description of him and
the
date on which he left
wait.
The time passed in great anxiety. The scientific world of
was
inclined to believe that one of its most distinguished members
had positively
disappeared. At the same time, when so many people
were
thinking about James Starr, Harry Ford was the subject of no less
anxiety.
Only, instead of occupying public attention, the son of the old
overman
was the cause of trouble alone to the generally cheerful mind of
Jack
Ryan.
It
may be remembered that, in their encounter in the Yarrow shaft, Jack
Ryan
had invited Harry to come a week afterwards to the festivities at
knew,
having had it proved by many circumstances, that his friend was
a man
of his word. With him, a thing promised was a thing done. Now, at
the
nor
fun of any sort--nothing but Harry Ford.
The
notice relative to James Starr, published in the papers, had not
yet
been seen by Ryan. The honest fellow was therefore only worried by
Harry's
absence, telling himself that something serious could alone have
prevented
him from keeping his promise. So, the day after the
games,
Jack Ryan intended to take the railway from
Dochart
pit; and this he would have done had he not been detained by an
accident
which nearly cost him his life. Something which occurred on the
night
of the 12th of December was of a nature to support the opinions of
all
partisans of the supernatural, and there were many at Melrose Farm.
inhabitants,
lies in a sharp bend made by the Scottish coast, near the
mouth
of the Firth of Clyde. The most ancient and the most famed ruins
on
this part of the coast were those of this
which
bore the name of
At
this period
of
the country, was completely deserted. It stood on the top of a high
rock,
two miles from the town, and was seldom visited. Sometimes a
few
strangers took it into their heads to explore these old historical
remains,
but then they always went alone. The inhabitants of
would
not have taken them there at any price. Indeed, several legends
were
based on the story of certain "fire-maidens," who haunted the old=
castle.
The
most superstitious declared they had seen these fantastic creatures
with
their own eyes. Jack Ryan was naturally one of them. It was a fact
that
from time to time long flames appeared, sometimes on a broken piece
of
wall, sometimes on the summit of the tower which was the highest
point
of
Did
these flames really assume a human shape, as was asserted? Did they
merit
the name of fire-maidens, given them by the people of the coast?
It
was evidently just an optical delusion, aided by a good deal of
credulity,
and science could easily have explained the phenomenon.
However
that might be, these fire-maidens had the reputation of
frequenting
the ruins of the old castle and there performing wild
strathspeys,
especially on dark nights. Jack Ryan, bold fellow though he
was,
would never have dared to accompany those dances with the music of
his
bagpipes.
"Old
Nick is enough for them!" said he. "He doesn't need me to complet=
e
his
infernal orchestra."
We
may well believe that these strange apparitions frequently furnished
a
text for the evening stories. Jack Ryan was ending the evening with
one
of these. His auditors, transported into the phantom world, were
worked
up into a state of mind which would believe anything.
All
at once shouts were heard outside. Jack Ryan stopped short in the
middle
of his story, and all rushed out of the barn. The night was
pitchy
dark. Squalls of wind and rain swept along the beach. Two or
three
fishermen, their backs against a rock, the better to resist the
wind,
were shouting at the top of their voices.
Jack
Ryan and his companions ran up to them. The shouts were, however,
not
for the inhabitants of the farm, but to warn men who, without being
aware
of it, were going to destruction. A dark, confused mass appeared
some
way out at sea. It was a vessel whose position could be seen by
her
lights, for she carried a white one on her foremast, a green on
the
starboard side, and a red on the outside. She was evidently running
straight
on the rocks.
"A
ship in distress?" said Ryan.
"Ay,"
answered one of the fishermen, "and now they want to tack, but
it's
too late!"
"Do
they want to run ashore?" said another.
"It
seems so," responded one of the fishermen, "unless he has been
misled
by some--"
The
man was interrupted by a yell from Jack. Could the crew have heard
it?
At any rate, it was too late for them to beat back from the line of
breakers
which gleamed white in the darkness.
But
it was not, as might be supposed, a last effort of Ryan's to warn
the
doomed ship. He now had his back to the sea. His companions turned
also,
and gazed at a spot situated about half a mile inland. It was
summit
of the old tower.
"The
Fire-Maiden!" cried the superstitious men in terror.
Clearly,
it needed a good strong imagination to find any human likeness
in
that flame. Waving in the wind like a luminous flag, it seemed
sometimes
to fly round the tower, as if it was just going out, and a
moment
after it was seen again dancing on its blue point.
"The
Fire-Maiden! the Fire-Maiden!" cried the terrified fishermen and
peasants.
All
was then explained. The ship, having lost her reckoning in the
fog,
had taken this flame on the top of
light.
She thought herself at the entrance of the Firth, ten miles
to
the north, when she was really running on a shore which offered no
refuge.
What
could be done to save her, if there was still time? It was too
late.
A frightful crash was heard above the tumult of the elements. The
vessel
had struck. The white line of surf was broken for an instant; she
heeled
over on her side and lay among the rocks.
At
the same time, by a strange coincidence, the long flame disappeared,
as if
it had been swept away by a violent gust. Earth, sea, and sky were
plunged
in complete darkness.
"The
Fire-Maiden!" shouted Ryan, for the last time, as the apparition,
which
he and his companions believed supernatural, disappeared. But then
the
courage of these superstitious Scotchmen, which had failed before a
fancied
danger, returned in face of a real one, which they were ready to
brave
in order to save their fellow-creatures. The tempest did not deter
them.
As heroic as they had before been credulous, fastening ropes round
their
waists, they rushed into the waves to the aid of those on the
wreck.
Happily,
they succeeded in their endeavors, although some--and bold Jack
Ryan
was among the number--were severely wounded on the rocks. But the
captain
of the vessel and the eight sailors who composed his crew were
hauled
up, safe and sound, on the beach.
The
ship was the Norwegian brig MOTALA, laden with timber, and bound for
up by
the waves, and dashed among the rocks on the beach.
Jack
Ryan and three of his companions, wounded like himself, were
carried
into a room of Melrose Farm, where every care was lavished on
them.
Ryan was the most hurt, for when with the rope round his waist
he
had rushed into the sea, the waves had almost immediately dashed him
back
against the rocks. He was brought, indeed, very nearly lifeless on
to
the beach.
The
brave fellow was therefore confined to bed for several days, to his
great
disgust. However, as soon as he was given permission to sing as
much
as he liked, he bore his trouble patiently, and the farm echoed
all
day with his jovial voice. But from this adventure he imbibed a more
lively
sentiment of fear with regard to brownies and other goblins who
amuse
themselves by plaguing mankind, and he made them responsible
for
the catastrophe of the Motala. It would have been vain to try and
convince
him that the Fire-Maidens did not exist, and that the flame,
so
suddenly appearing among the ruins, was but a natural phenomenon. No
reasoning
could make him believe it. His companions were, if possible,
more
obstinate than he in their credulity. According to them, one of the
Fire-Maidens
had maliciously attracted the MOTALA to the coast. As to
wishing
to punish her, as well try to bring the tempest to justice! The
magistrates
might order what arrests they pleased, but a flame cannot
be
imprisoned, an impalpable being can't be handcuffed. It must be
acknowledged
that the researches which were ultimately made gave ground,
at
least in appearance, to this superstitious way of explaining the
facts.
The
inquiry was made with great care. Officials came to Dundonald
Castle,
and they proceeded to conduct a most vigorous search. The
magistrate
wished first to ascertain if the ground bore any footprints,
which
could be attributed to other than goblins' feet. It was impossible
to
find the least trace, whether old or new. Moreover, the earth, still
damp
from the rain of the day before, would have preserved the least
vestige.
The
result of all this was, that the magistrates only got for their
trouble
a new legend added to so many others--a legend which would be
perpetuated
by the remembrance of the catastrophe of the MOTALA, and
indisputably
confirm the truth of the apparition of the Fire-Maidens.
A
hearty fellow like Jack Ryan, with so strong a constitution, could not
be
long confined to his bed. A few sprains and bruises were not quite
enough
to keep him on his back longer than he liked. He had not time to
be
ill.
Jack,
therefore, soon got well. As soon as he was on his legs again,
before
resuming his work on the farm, he wished to go and visit his
friend
Harry, and learn why he had not come to the
He
could not understand his absence, for Harry was not a man who would
willingly
promise and not perform. It was unlikely, too, that the son of
the
old overman had not heard of the wreck of the MOTALA, as it was in
all
the papers. He must know the part Jack had taken in it, and what had
happened
to him, and it was unlike Harry not to hasten to the farm and
see
how his old chum was going on.
As
Harry had not come, there must have been something to prevent him.
Jack
Ryan would as soon deny the existence of the Fire-Maidens as
believe
in Harry's indifference.
Two
days after the catastrophe Jack left the farm merily, feeling
nothing
of his wounds. Singing in the fullness of his heart, he awoke
the
echoes of the cliff, as he walked to the station of the railway,
which
VIA
As he
was waiting for his train, his attention was attracted by a bill
posted
up on the walls, containing the following notice:
"On
the 4th of December, the engineer, James Starr, of Edinburgh
embarked
from Granton Pier, on board the Prince of Wales. He disembarked
the
same day at
of
him.
"Any
information concerning him is requested to be sent to the President
of
the Royal Institution,
Jack
Ryan, stopping before one of these advertisements, read it twice
over,
with extreme surprise.
"Mr.
Starr!" he exclaimed. "Why, on the 4th of December I met him with=
Harry
on the ladder of the Dochart pit! That was ten days ago! And he
has
not been seen from that time! That explains why my chum didn't come
to
And
without taking time to inform the President of the Royal Institution
by
letter, what he knew relative to James Starr, Jack jumped into the
train,
determining to go first of all to the Yarrow shaft. There he
would
descend to the depths of the pit, if necessary, to find Harry, and
with
him was sure to be the engineer James Starr.
"They haven't turned up again," said he to himself. "Why? Has anything<= o:p>
prevented
them? Could any work of importance keep them still at the
bottom
of the mine? I must find out!" and Ryan, hastening his steps,
arrived
in less than an hour at the Yarrow shaft.
Externally
nothing was changed. The same silence around. Not a living
creature
was moving in that desert region. Jack entered the ruined shed
which
covered the opening of the shaft. He gazed down into the dark
abyss--nothing
was to be seen. He listened--nothing was to be heard.
"And
my lamp!" he exclaimed; "suppose it isn't in its place!" The
lamp
which
Ryan used when he visited the pit was usually deposited in a
corner,
near the landing of the topmost ladder. It had disappeared.
"Here
is a nuisance!" said Jack, beginning to feel rather uneasy. Then,
without
hesitating, superstitious though he was, "I will go," said he,
"though
it's as dark down there as in the lowest depths of the infernal
regions!"
And
he began to descend the long flight of ladders, which led down the
gloomy
shaft. Jack Ryan had not forgotten his old mining habits, and
he
was well acquainted with the Dochart pit, or he would scarcely have
dared
to venture thus. He went very carefully, however. His foot tried
each
round, as some of them were worm-eaten. A false step would entail a
deadly
fall, through this space of fifteen hundred feet. He counted each
landing
as he passed it, knowing that he could not reach the bottom of
the
shaft until he had left the thirtieth. Once there, he would have no
trouble,
so he thought, in finding the cottage, built, as we have said,
at
the extremity of the principal passage.
Jack
Ryan went on thus until he got to the twenty-sixth landing, and
consequently
had two hundred feet between him and the bottom.
Here
he put down his leg to feel for the first rung of the
twenty-seventh
ladder. But his foot swinging in space found nothing to
rest
on. He knelt down and felt about with his hand for the top of the
ladder.
It was in vain.
"Old
Nick himself must have been down this way!" said Jack, not without
a
slight feeling of terror.
He
stood considering for some time, with folded arms, and longing to be
able
to pierce the impenetrable darkness. Then it occurred to him that
if he
could not get down, neither could the inhabitants of the mine get
up.
There was now no communication between the depths of the pit and the
upper
regions. If the removal of the lower ladders of the Yarrow shaft
had
been effected since his last visit to the cottage, what had become
of
Simon Ford, his wife, his son, and the engineer?
The
prolonged absence of James Starr proved that he had not left the pit
since
the day Ryan met with him in the shaft. How had the cottage been
provisioned
since then? The food of these unfortunate people, imprisoned
fifteen
hundred feet below the surface of the ground, must have been
exhausted
by this time.
All
this passed through Jack's mind, as he saw that by himself he could
do
nothing to get to the cottage. He had no doubt but that communication
had
been interrupted with a malevolent intention. At any rate, the
authorities
must be informed, and that as soon as possible. Jack Ryan
bent
forward from the landing.
"Harry!
Harry!" he shouted with his powerful voice.
Harry's
name echoed and re-echoed among the rocks, and finally died away
in
the depths of the shaft.
Ryan
rapidly ascended the upper ladders and returned to the light of
day.
Without losing a moment he reached the Callander station, just
caught
the express to
Lord
Provost.
There
his declaration was received. His account was given so clearly
that
it could not be doubted. Sir William Elphiston, President of the
Royal
Institution, and not only colleague, but a personal friend of
Starr's,
was also informed, and asked to direct the search which was
to be
made without delay in the mine. Several men were placed at his
disposal,
supplied with lamps, picks, long rope ladders, not forgetting
provisions
and cordials. Then guided by Jack Ryan, the party set out for
the
Aberfoyle mines.
The
same evening the expedition arrived at the opening of the Yarrow
shaft,
and descended to the twenty-seventh landing, at which Jack Ryan
had
been stopped a few hours previously. The lamps, fastened to long
ropes,
were lowered down the shaft, and it was thus ascertained that the
four
last ladders were wanting.
As
soon as the lamps had been brought up, the men fixed to the landing a
rope
ladder, which unrolled itself down the shaft, and all descended one
after
the other. Jack Ryan's descent was the most difficult, for he went
first
down the swinging ladders, and fastened them for the others.
The
space at the bottom of the shaft was completely deserted; but Sir
William
was much surprised at hearing Jack Ryan exclaim, "Here are bits
of
the ladders, and some of them half burnt!"
"Burnt?"
repeated Sir William. "Indeed, here sure enough are cinders
which
have evidently been cold a long time!"
"Do
you think, sir," asked Ryan, "that Mr. Starr could have had any
reason
for burning the ladders, and thus breaking of communication with
the
world?"
"Certainly
not," answered Sir William Elphiston, who had become very
thoughtful.
"Come, my lad, lead us to the cottage. There we shall
ascertain
the truth."
Jack
Ryan shook his head, as if not at all convinced. Then, taking a
lamp
from the hands of one of the men, he proceeded with a rapid step
along
the principal passage of the Dochart pit. The others all followed
him.
In a
quarter of an hour the party arrived at the excavation in which
stood
Simon Ford's cottage. There was no light in the window. Ryan
darted
to the door, and threw it open. The house was empty.
They
examined all the rooms in the somber habitation. No trace of
violence
was to be found. All was in order, as if old Madge had been
still
there. There was even an ample supply of provisions, enough to
last
the Ford family for several days.
The
absence of the tenants of the cottage was quite unaccountable. But
was
it not possible to find out the exact time they had quitted it? Yes,
for
in this region, where there was no difference of day or night, Madge
was
accustomed to mark with a cross each day in her almanac.
The
almanac was pinned up on the wall, and there the last cross had been
made
at the 6th of December; that is to say, a day after the arrival of
James
Starr, to which Ryan could positively swear. It was clear that on
the
6th of December, ten days ago, Simon Ford, his wife, son, and
guest,
had quitted the cottage. Could a fresh exploration of the mine,
undertaken
by the engineer, account for such a long absence? Certainly
not.
It
was intensely dark all round. The lamps held by the men gave light
only
just where they were standing. Suddenly Jack Ryan uttered a cry.
"Look
there, there!"
His
finger was pointing to a tolerably bright light, which was moving
about
in the distance. "After that light, my men!" exclaimed Sir
William.
"It's
a goblin light!" said Ryan. "So what's the use? We shall never
catch
it."
The
president and his men, little given to superstition, darted off in
the
direction of the moving light. Jack Ryan, bravely following their
example,
quickly overtook the head-most of the party.
It
was a long and fatiguing chase. The lantern seemed to be carried by a
being
of small size, but singular agility.
Every
now and then it disappeared behind some pillar, then was seen
again
at the end of a cross gallery. A sharp turn would place it out of
sight,
and it seemed to have completely disappeared, when all at once
there
would be the light as bright as ever. However, they gained very
little
on it, and Ryan's belief that they could never catch it seemed
far
from groundless.
After
an hour of this vain pursuit Sir William Elphiston and his
companions
had gone a long way in the southwest direction of the pit,
and
began to think they really had to do with an impalpable being. Just
then
it seemed as if the distance between the goblin and those who
were
pursuing it was becoming less. Could it be fatigued, or did this
invisible
being wish to entice Sir William and his companions to the
place
where the inhabitants of the cottage had perhaps themselves been
enticed.
It was hard to say.
The
men, seeing that the distance lessened, redoubled their efforts. The
light
which had before burnt at a distance of more than two hundred
feet
before them was now seen at less than fifty. The space continued
to
diminish. The bearer of the lamp became partially visible. Sometimes,
when
it turned its head, the indistinct profile of a human face could be
made
out, and unless a sprite could assume bodily shape, Jack Ryan was
obliged
to confess that here was no supernatural being. Then, springing
forward,--
"Courage,
comrades!" he exclaimed; "it is getting tired! We shall soon
catch
it up now, and if it can talk as well as it can run we shall hear
a
fine story."
But
the pursuit had suddenly become more difficult. They were in
unknown
regions of the mine; narrow passages crossed each other like
the
windings of a labyrinth. The bearer of the lamp might escape them as
easily
as possible, by just extinguishing the light and retreating into
some
dark refuge.
"And
indeed," thought Sir William, "if it wishes to avoid us, why does=
it
not do so?"
Hitherto
there had evidently been no intention to avoid them, but
just
as the thought crossed Sir William's mind the light suddenly
disappeared,
and the party, continuing the pursuit, found themselves
before
an extremely narrow natural opening in the schistous rocks.
To
trim their lamps, spring forward, and dart through the opening, was
for
Sir William and his party but the work of an instant. But before
they
had gone a hundred paces along this new gallery, much wider and
loftier
than the former, they all stopped short. There, near the wall,
lay
four bodies, stretched on the ground--four corpses, perhaps!
"James
Starr!" exclaimed Sir William Elphiston.
"Harry!
Harry!" cried Ryan, throwing himself down beside his friend.
It
was indeed the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford who were lying
there
motionless. But one of the bodies moved slightly, and Madge's
voice
was heard faintly murmuring, "See to the others! help them first!"=
;
Sir
William, Jack, and their companions endeavored to reanimate the
engineer
and his friends by getting them to swallow a few drops of
brandy.
They very soon succeeded. The unfortunate people, shut up in
that
dark cavern for ten days, were dying of starvation. They must have
perished
had they not on three occasions found a loaf of bread and a jug
of
water set near them. No doubt the charitable being to whom they owed
their
lives was unable to do more for them.
Sir
William wondered whether this might not have been the work of the
strange
sprite who had allured them to the very spot where James Starr
and
his companions lay.
However
that might be, the engineer, Madge, Simon, and Harry Ford were
saved.
They were assisted to the cottage, passing through the narrow
opening
which the bearer of the strange light had apparently wished to
point
out to Sir William. This was a natural opening. The passage which
James
Starr and his companions had made for themselves with dynamite had
been
completely blocked up with rocks laid one upon another.
So,
then, whilst they had been exploring the vast cavern, the way back
had
been purposely closed against them by a hostile hand.
THREE
years after the events which have just been related, the
guide-books
recommended as a "great attraction," to the numerous
tourists
who roam over the
the
mines of New Aberfoyle.
No
mine in any country, either in the Old or
more
curious aspect.
To
begin with, the visitor was transported without danger or fatigue to
a
level with the workings, at fifteen hundred feet below the surface of
the
ground. Seven miles to the southwest of Callander opened a slanting
tunnel,
adorned with a castellated entrance, turrets and battlements.
This
lofty tunnel gently sloped straight to the stupendous crypt,
hollowed
out so strangely in the bowels of the earth.
A
double line of railway, the wagons being moved by hydraulic power,
plied
from hour to hour to and from the village thus buried in the
subsoil
of the county, and which bore the rather ambitious title of Coal
Town.
Arrived
in Coal Town, the visitor found himself in a place where
electricity
played a principal part as an agent of heat and light.
Although
the ventilation shafts were numerous, they were not sufficient
to
admit much daylight into New Aberfoyle, yet it had abundance of
light.
This was shed from numbers of electric discs; some suspended from
the
vaulted roofs, others hanging on the natural pillars--all, whether
suns
or stars in size, were fed by continuous currents produced from
electro-magnetic
machines. When the hour of rest arrived, an artificial
night
was easily produced all over the mine by disconnecting the wires.
Below
the dome lay a lake of an extent to be compared to the Dead Sea
of
the Mammoth caves--a deep lake whose transparent waters swarmed with
eyeless
fish, and to which the engineer gave the name of Loch Malcolm.
There,
in this immense natural excavation, Simon Ford built his new
cottage,
which he would not have exchanged for the finest house in
Prince's
Street, Edinburgh. This dwelling was situated on the shores
of
the loch, and its five windows looked out on the dark waters, which
extended
further than the eye could see. Two months later a second
habitation
was erected in the neighborhood of Simon Ford's cottage: this
was
for James Starr. The engineer had given himself body and soul to New
Aberfoyle,
and nothing but the most imperative necessity ever caused
him
to leave the pit. There, then, he lived in the midst of his mining
world.
On
the discovery of the new field, all the old colliers had hastened to
leave
the plow and harrow, and resume the pick and mattock. Attracted
by
the certainty that work would never fail, allured by the high wages
which
the prosperity of the mine enabled the company to offer for labor,
they
deserted the open air for an underground life, and took up their
abode
in the mines.
The
miners' houses, built of brick, soon grew up in a picturesque
fashion;
some on the banks of Loch Malcolm, others under the arches
which
seemed made to resist the weight that pressed upon them, like the
piers
of a bridge. So was founded Coal Town, situated under the eastern
point
of Loch Katrine, to the north of the county of Stirling. It was a
regular
settlement on the banks of Loch Malcolm. A chapel, dedicated
to
St. Giles, overlooked it from the top of a huge rock, whose foot was
laved
by the waters of the subterranean sea.
When
this underground town was lighted up by the bright rays thrown from
the
discs, hung from the pillars and arches, its aspect was so strange,
so
fantastic, that it justified the praise of the guide-books, and
visitors
flocked to see it.
It is
needless to say that the inhabitants of Coal Town were proud of
their
place. They rarely left their laboring village--in that imitating
Simon
Ford, who never wished to go out again. The old overman maintained
that it always rained "up there," and, considering the climate of the<= o:p>
United
Kingdom, it must be acknowledged that he was not far wrong. All
the
families in New Aberfoyle prospered well, having in three years
obtained
a certain competency which they could never have hoped to
attain
on the surface of the county. Dozens of babies, who were born at
the
time when the works were resumed, had never yet breathed the outer
air.
This
made Jack Ryan remark, "It's eighteen months since they were
weaned,
and they have not yet seen daylight!"
It
may be mentioned here, that one of the first to run at the engineer's
call
was Jack Ryan. The merry fellow had thought it his duty to return
to
his old trade. But though Melrose farm had lost singer and piper it
must
not be thought that Jack Ryan sung no more. On the contrary, the
sonorous
echoes of New Aberfoyle exerted their strong lungs to answer
him.
Jack
Ryan took up his abode in Simon Ford's new cottage. They offered
him a
room, which he accepted without ceremony, in his frank and hearty
way.
Old Madge loved him for his fine character and good nature. She in
some
degree shared his ideas on the subject of the fantastic beings
who
were supposed to haunt the mine, and the two, when alone, told each
other
stories wild enough to make one shudder--stories well worthy of
enriching
the hyperborean mythology.
Jack
thus became the life of the cottage. He was, besides being a jovial
companion,
a good workman. Six months after the works had begun, he was
made
head of a gang of hewers.
"That
was a good work done, Mr. Ford," said he, a few days after his
appointment.
"You discovered a new field, and though you narrowly
escaped
paying for the discovery with your life--well, it was not too
dearly
bought."
"No,
Jack, it was a good bargain we made that time!" answered the old
overman.
"But neither Mr. Starr nor I have forgotten that to you we owe
our
lives."
"Not at all," returned Jack. "You owe them to your son Harry, when he<= o:p>
had
the good sense to accept my invitation to Irvine."
"And
not to go, isn't that it?" interrupted Harry, grasping his
comrade's
hand. "No, Jack, it is to you, scarcely healed of your
wounds--to
you, who did not delay a day, no, nor an hour, that we owe
our
being found still alive in the mine!"
"Rubbish,
no!" broke in the obstinate fellow. "I won't have that said,
when
it's no such thing. I hurried to find out what had become of you,
Harry,
that's all. But to give everyone his due, I will add that without
that
unapproachable goblin--"
"Ah,
there we are!" cried Ford. "A goblin!"
"A
goblin, a brownie, a fairy's child," repeated Jack Ryan, "a cousi=
n of
the
Fire-Maidens, an Urisk, whatever you like! It's not the less certain
that
without it we should never have found our way into the gallery,
from
which you could not get out."
"No
doubt, Jack," answered Harry. "It remains to be seen whether this=
being
was as supernatural as you choose to believe."
"Supernatural!"
exclaimed Ryan. "But it was as supernatural as a
Will-o'-the-Wisp,
who may be seen skipping along with his lantern in
his
hand; you may try to catch him, but he escapes like a fairy, and
vanishes
like a shadow! Don't be uneasy, Harry, we shall see it again
some
day or other!"
"Well,
Jack," said Simon Ford, "Will-o'-the-Wisp or not, we shall try to=
find
it, and you must help us."
"You'll
get into a scrap if you don't take care, Mr. Ford!" responded
Jack
Ryan.
"We'll
see about that, Jack!"
We
may easily imagine how soon this domain of New Aberfoyle became
familiar
to all the members of the Ford family, but more particularly to
Harry.
He learnt to know all its most secret ins and outs. He could even
say
what point of the surface corresponded with what point of the mine.
He
knew that above this seam lay the Firth of Clyde, that there extended
Loch
Lomond and Loch Katrine. Those columns supported a spur of the
Grampian
mountains. This vault served as a basement to Dumbarton. Above
this
large pond passed the Balloch railway. Here ended the Scottish
coast.
There began the sea, the tumult of which could be distinctly
heard
during the equinoctial gales. Harry would have been a first-rate
guide
to these natural catacombs, and all that Alpine guides do on
their
snowy peaks in daylight he could have done in the dark mine by the
wonderful
power of instinct.
He
loved New Aberfoyle. Many times, with his lamp stuck in his hat,
did
he penetrate its furthest depths. He explored its ponds in a
skillfully-managed
canoe. He even went shooting, for numerous birds had
been
introduced into the crypt--pintails, snipes, ducks, who fed on the
fish
which swarmed in the deep waters. Harry's eyes seemed made for
the
dark, just as a sailor's are made for distances. But all this while
Harry
felt irresistibly animated by the hope of finding the mysterious
being
whose intervention, strictly speaking, had saved himself and his
friends.
Would he succeed? He certainly would, if presentiments were to
be
trusted; but certainly not, if he judged by the success which had as
yet
attended his researches.
The
attacks directed against the family of the old overman, before the
discovery
of New Aberfoyle, had not been renewed.
ALTHOUGH
in this way the Ford family led a happy and contented life, yet
it
was easy to see that Harry, naturally of a grave disposition, became
more
and more quiet and reserved. Even Jack Ryan, with all his good
humor
and usually infectious merriment, failed to rouse him to gayety of
manner.
One
Sunday--it was in the month of June--the two friends were walking
together
on the shores of Loch Malcolm.
the
world above, stormy weather prevailed. Violent rains fell, and
dull
sultry vapors brooded over the earth; the atmosphere was most
oppressive.
Down
in Coal Town there was perfect calm; no wind, no rain. A soft and
pleasant
temperature existed instead of the strife of the elements which
raged
without. What wonder then, that excursionists from Stirling came
in
considerable numbers to enjoy the calm fresh air in the recesses of
the
mine?
The
electric discs shed a brilliancy of light which the British sun,
oftener
obscured by fogs than it ought to be, might well envy. Jack Ryan
kept
talking of these visitors, who passed them in noisy crowds, but
Harry
paid very little attention to what he said.
"I
say, do look, Harry!" cried Jack. "See what numbers of people com=
e
to
visit us! Cheer up, old fellow! Do the honors of the place a little
better.
If you look so glum, you'll make all these outside folks think
you
envy their life above-ground."
"Never
mind me, Jack," answered Harry. "You are jolly enough for two,
I'm
sure; that's enough."
"I'll
be hanged if I don't feel your melancholy creeping over me
though!"
exclaimed Jack. "I declare my eyes are getting quite dull, my
lips
are drawn together, my laugh sticks in my throat; I'm forgetting
all
my songs. Come, man, what's the matter with you?"
"You
know well enough, Jack."
"What?
the old story?"
"Yes,
the same thoughts haunt me."
"Ah,
poor fellow!" said Jack, shrugging his shoulders. "If you would
only
do like me, and set all the queer things down to the account of the
goblins
of the mine, you would be easier in your mind."
"But,
Jack, you know very well that these goblins exist only in your
imagination,
and that, since the works here have been reopened, not a
single
one has been seen."
"That's
true, Harry; but if no spirits have been seen, neither has
anyone
else to whom you could attribute the extraordinary doings we want
to
account for."
"I
shall discover them."
"Ah,
Harry! Harry! it's not so easy to catch the spirits of New
Aberfoyle!"
"I
shall find out the spirits as you call them," said Harry, in a tone
of
firm conviction.
"Do
you expect to be able to punish them?"
"Both
punish and reward. Remember, if one hand shut us up in that
passage,
another hand delivered us! I shall not soon forget that."
"But,
Harry, how can we be sure that these two hands do not belong to
the
same body?"
"What
can put such a notion in your head, Jack?" asked Harry.
"Well,
I don't know. Creatures that live in these holes, Harry, don't
you
see? they can't be made like us, eh?"
"But
they ARE just like us, Jack."
"Oh,
no! don't say that, Harry! Perhaps some madman managed to get in
for a
time."
"A
madman! No madman would have formed such connected plans, or done
such
continued mischief as befell us after the breaking of the ladders."
"Well,
but anyhow he has done no harm for the last three years, either
to
you, Harry, or any of your people."
"No
matter, Jack," replied Harry; "I am persuaded that this malignant=
being,
whoever he is, has by no means given up his evil intentions. I
can
hardly say on what I found my convictions. But at any rate, for
the
sake of the new works, I must and will know who he is and whence he
comes."
"For
the sake of the new works did you say?" asked Jack, considerably
surprised.
"I
said so, Jack," returned Harry. "I may be mistaken, but, to me, a=
ll
that
has happened proves the existence of an interest in this mine in
strong
opposition to ours. Many a time have I considered the matter; I
feel
almost sure of it. Just consider the whole series of inexplicable
circumstances,
so singularly linked together. To begin with, the
anonymous
letter, contradictory to that of my father, at once proves
that
some man had become aware of our projects, and wished to prevent
their
accomplishment. Mr. Starr comes to see us at the Dochart pit. No
sooner
does he enter it with me than an immense stone is cast upon us,
and
communication is interrupted by the breaking of the ladders in
the
Yarrow shaft. We commence exploring. An experiment, by which the
existence
of a new vein would be proved, is rendered impossible by
stoppage
of fissures. Notwithstanding this, the examination is carried
out,
the vein discovered. We return as we came, a prodigious gust of air
meets
us, our lamp is broken, utter darkness surrounds us. Nevertheless,
we
make our way along the gloomy passage until, on reaching the
entrance,
we find it blocked up. There we were--imprisoned. Now, Jack,
don't
you see in all these things a malicious intention? Ah, yes,
believe
me, some being hitherto invisible, but not supernatural, as you
will
persist in thinking, was concealed in the mine. For some reason,
known
only to himself, he strove to keep us out of it. WAS there, did
I
say? I feel an inward conviction that he IS there still, and probably
prepares
some terrible disaster for us. Even at the risk of my life,
Jack,
I am resolved to discover him."
Harry
spoke with an earnestness which strongly impressed his companion.
"Well,
Harry," said he, "if I am forced to agree with you in certain
points,
won't you admit that some kind fairy or brownie, by bringing
bread
and water to you, was the means of--"
"Jack,
my friend," interrupted Harry, "it is my belief that the friendly=
person,
whom you will persist in calling a spirit, exists in the mine as
certainly
as the criminal we speak of, and I mean to seek them both in
the
most distant recesses of the mine."
"But,"
inquired Jack, "have you any possible clew to guide your search?"=
"Perhaps
I have. Listen to me! Five miles west of New Aberfoyle, under
the
solid rock which supports Ben Lomond, there exists a natural shaft
which
descends perpendicularly into the vein beneath. A week ago I went
to
ascertain the depth of this shaft. While sounding it, and bending
over
the opening as my plumb-line went down, it seemed to me that the
air
within was agitated, as though beaten by huge wings."
"Some
bird must have got lost among the lower galleries," replied Jack.
"But
that is not all, Jack. This very morning I went back to the place,
and,
listening attentively, I thought I could detect a sound like a sort
of
groaning."
"Groaning!"
cried Jack, "that must be nonsense; it was a current of
air--unless
indeed some ghost--"
"I
shall know to-morrow what it was," said Harry.
"To-morrow?"
answered Jack, looking at his friend.
"Yes;
to-morrow I am going down into that abyss."
"Harry!
that will be a tempting of Providence."
"No,
Jack, Providence will aid me in the attempt. Tomorrow, you and some
of
our comrades will go with me to that shaft. I will fasten myself to
a
long rope, by which you can let me down, and draw me up at a given
signal.
I may depend upon you, Jack?"
"Well,
Harry," said Jack, shaking his head, "I will do as you wish me;
but I
tell you all the same, you are very wrong."
"Nothing
venture nothing win," said Harry, in a tone of decision.
"To-morrow
morning, then, at six o'clock. Be silent, and farewell!"
It
must be admitted that Jack Ryan's fears were far from groundless.
Harry
would expose himself to very great danger, supposing the enemy
he
sought for lay concealed at the bottom of the pit into which he
was
going to descend. It did not seem likely that such was the case,
however.
"Why
in the world," repeated Jack Ryan, "should he take all this troub=
le
to
account for a set of facts so very easily and simply explained by the
supernatural
intervention of the spirits of the mine?"
But,
notwithstanding his objections to the scheme, Jack Ryan and three
miners
of his gang arrived next morning with Harry at the mouth of the
opening
of the suspicious shaft. Harry had not mentioned his intentions
either
to James Starr or to the old overman. Jack had been discreet
enough
to say nothing.
Harry
had provided himself with a rope about 200 feet long. It was not
particularly
thick, but very strong--sufficiently so to sustain his
weight.
His friends were to let him down into the gulf, and his pulling
the
cord was to be the signal to withdraw him.
The
opening into this shaft or well was twelve feet wide. A beam was
thrown
across like a bridge, so that the cord passing over it should
hang
down the center of the opening, and save Harry from striking
against
the sides in his descent.
He
was ready.
"Are
you still determined to explore this abyss?" whispered Jack Ryan.
"Yes,
I am, Jack."
The
cord was fastened round Harry's thighs and under his arms, to keep
him
from rocking. Thus supported, he was free to use both his hands. A
safety-lamp
hung at his belt, also a large, strong knife in a leather
sheath.
Harry
advanced to the middle of the beam, around which the cord was
passed.
Then his friends began to let him down, and he slowly sank into
the
pit. As the rope caused him to swing gently round and round, the
light
of his lamp fell in turns on all points of the side walls, so
that
he was able to examine them carefully. These walls consisted of pit
coal,
and so smooth that it would be impossible to ascend them.
Harry
calculated that he was going down at the rate of about a foot
per
second, so that he had time to look about him, and be ready for any
event.
During
two minutes--that is to say, to the depth of about 120 feet, the
descent
continued without any incident.
No
lateral gallery opened from the side walls of the pit, which was
gradually
narrowing into the shape of a funnel. But Harry began to feel
a
fresher air rising from beneath, whence he concluded that the bottom
of
the pit communicated with a gallery of some description in the lowest
part
of the mine.
The
cord continued to unwind. Darkness and silence were complete. If
any
living being whatever had sought refuge in the deep and mysterious
abyss,
he had either left it, or, if there, by no movement did he in the
slightest
way betray his presence.
Harry,
becoming more suspicious the lower he got, now drew his knife and
held
it in his right hand. At a depth of 180 feet, his feet touched the
lower
point and the cord slackened and unwound no further.
Harry
breathed more freely for a moment. One of the fears he entertained
had
been that, during his descent, the cord might be cut above him, but
he
had seen no projection from the walls behind which anyone could have
been
concealed.
The
bottom of the abyss was quite dry. Harry, taking the lamp from his
belt,
walked round the place, and perceived he had been right in his
conjectures.
An
extremely narrow passage led aside out of the pit. He had to stoop
to
look into it, and only by creeping could it be followed; but as
he
wanted to see in which direction it led, and whether another abyss
opened
from it, he lay down on the ground and began to enter it on hands
and
knees.
An
obstacle speedily arrested his progress. He fancied he could perceive
by
touching it, that a human body lay across the passage. A sudden
thrill
of horror and surprise made him hastily draw back, but he again
advanced
and felt more carefully.
His
senses had not deceived him; a body did indeed lie there; and he
soon
ascertained that, although icy cold at the extremities, there was
some
vital heat remaining. In less time than it takes to tell it, Harry
had
drawn the body from the recess to the bottom of the shaft, and,
seizing
his lamp, he cast its lights on what he had found, exclaiming
immediately,
"Why, it is a child!"
The
child still breathed, but so very feebly that Harry expected it to
cease
every instant. Not a moment was to be lost; he must carry this
poor
little creature out of the pit, and take it home to his mother as
quickly
as he could. He eagerly fastened the cord round his waist, stuck
on
his lamp, clasped the child to his breast with his left arm, and,
keeping
his right hand free to hold the knife, he gave the signal agreed
on,
to have the rope pulled up.
It
tightened at once; he began the ascent. Harry looked around him with
redoubled
care, for more than his own life was now in danger.
For a
few minutes all went well, no accident seemed to threaten him,
when
suddenly he heard the sound of a great rush of air from beneath;
and,
looking down, he could dimly perceive through the gloom a broad
mass
arising until it passed him, striking him as it went by.
It
was an enormous bird--of what sort he could not see; it flew upwards
on
mighty wings, then paused, hovered, and dashed fiercely down upon
Harry,
who could only wield his knife in one hand. He defended himself
and
the child as well as he could, but the ferocious bird seemed to aim
all
its blows at him alone. Afraid of cutting the cord, he could not
strike
it as he wished, and the struggle was prolonged, while Harry
shouted
with all his might in hopes of making his comrades hear.
He
soon knew they did, for they pulled the rope up faster; a distance
of
about eighty feet remained to be got over. The bird ceased its direct
attack,
but increased the horror and danger of his situation by rushing
at
the cord, clinging to it just out of his reach, and endeavoring, by
pecking
furiously, to cut it.
Harry
felt overcome with terrible dread. One strand of the rope gave
way,
and it made them sink a little.
A
shriek of despair escaped his lips.
A
second strand was divided, and the double burden now hung suspended by
only
half the cord.
Harry
dropped his knife, and by a superhuman effort succeeded, at the
moment
the rope was giving way, in catching hold of it with his right
hand
above the cut made by the beak of the bird. But, powerfully as he
held
it in his iron grasp, he could feel it gradually slipping through
his
fingers.
He
might have caught it, and held on with both hands by sacrificing the
life
of the child he supported in his left arm. The idea crossed him,
but
was banished in an instant, although he believed himself quite
unable
to hold out until drawn to the surface. For a second he closed
his
eyes, believing they were about to plunge back into the abyss.
He
looked up once more; the huge bird had disappeared; his hand was
at
the very extremity of the broken rope--when, just as his convulsive
grasp
was failing, he was seized by the men, and with the child was
placed
on the level ground.
The
fearful strain of anxiety removed, a reaction took place, and Harry
fell
fainting into the arms of his friends.
A
COUPLE of hours later, Harry still unconscious, and the child in a
very
feeble state, were brought to the cottage by Jack Ryan and his
companions.
The old overman listened to the account of their adventures,
while
Madge attended with the utmost care to the wants of her son, and
of
the poor creature whom he had rescued from the pit.
Harry
imagined her a mere child, but she was a maiden of the age of
fifteen
or sixteen years.
She
gazed at them with vague and wondering eyes; and the thin face,
drawn
by suffering, the pallid complexion, which light could never have
tinged,
and the fragile, slender figure, gave her an appearance at once
singular
and attractive. Jack Ryan declared that she seemed to him to be
an
uncommonly interesting kind of ghost.
It
must have been due to the strange and peculiar circumstances under
which
her life hitherto had been led, that she scarcely seemed to belong
to
the human race. Her countenance was of a very uncommon cast, and her
eyes,
hardly able to bear the lamp-light in the cottage, glanced around
in a
confused and puzzled way, as if all were new to them.
As
this singular being reclined on Madge's bed and awoke to
consciousness,
as from a long sleep, the old Scotchwoman began to
question
her a little.
"What
do they call you, my dear?" said she.
"Nell,"
replied the girl.
"Do
you feel anything the matter with you, Nell?"
"I
am hungry. I have eaten nothing since--since--"
Nell
uttered these few words like one unused to speak much. They were
in
the Gaelic language, which was often spoken by Simon and his family.
Madge
immediately brought her some food; she was evidently famished. It
was
impossible to say how long she might have been in that pit.
"How
many days had you been down there, dearie?" inquired Madge.
Nell
made no answer; she seemed not to understand the question.
"How
many days, do you think?"
"Days?"
repeated Nell, as though the word had no meaning for her, and
she
shook her head to signify entire want of comprehension.
Madge
took her hand, and stroked it caressingly. "How old are you, my
lassie?"
she asked, smiling kindly at her.
Nell
shook her head again.
"Yes,
yes," continued Madge, "how many years old?"
"Years?"
replied Nell. She seemed to understand that word no better than
days!
Simon, Harry, Jack, and the rest, looked on with an air of mingled
compassion,
wonder, and sympathy. The state of this poor thing, clothed
in a
miserable garment of coarse woolen stuff, seemed to impress them
painfully.
Harry,
more than all the rest, seemed attracted by the very peculiarity
of
this poor stranger. He drew near, took Nell's hand from his mother,
and
looked directly at her, while something like a smile curved her
lip.
"Nell," he said, "Nell, away down there--in the mine--were y=
ou
all
alone?"
"Alone!
alone!" cried the girl, raising herself hastily. Her features
expressed
terror; her eyes, which had appeared to soften as Harry looked
at
her, became quite wild again. "Alone!" repeated she,
"alone!"--and
she
fell back on the bed, as though deprived of all strength.
"The
poor bairn is too weak to speak to us," said Madge, when she had
adjusted
the pillows. "After a good rest, and a little more food, she
will
be stronger. Come away, Simon and Harry, and all the rest of you,
and
let her go to sleep." So Nell was left alone, and in a very few
minutes
slept profoundly.
This
event caused a great sensation, not only in the coal mines, but in
Stirlingshire,
and ultimately throughout the kingdom. The strangeness of
the
story was exaggerated; the affair could not have made more commotion
had
they found the girl enclosed in the solid rock, like one of those
antediluvian
creatures who have occasionally been released by a stroke
of
the pickax from their stony prison. Nell became a fashionable wonder
without
knowing it. Superstitious folks made her story a new subject for
legendary
marvels, and were inclined to think, as Jack Ryan told Harry,
that
Nell was the spirit of the mines.
"Be
it so, Jack," said the young man; "but at any rate she is the goo=
d
spirit.
It can have been none but she who brought us bread and water
when
we were shut up down there; and as to the bad spirit, who must
still
be in the mine, we'll catch him some day."
Of
course James Starr had been at once informed of all this, and came,
as
soon as the young girl had sufficiently recovered her strength, to
see
her, and endeavor to question her carefully.
She
appeared ignorant of nearly everything relating to life, and,
although
evidently intelligent, was wanting in many elementary ideas,
such
as time, for instance. She had never been used to its division, and
the
words signifying hours, days, months, and years were unknown to her.
Her
eyes, accustomed to the night, were pained by the glare of the
electric
discs; but in the dark her sight was wonderfully keen, the
pupil
dilated in a remarkable manner, and she could see where to others
there
appeared profound obscurity. It was certain that her brain had
never
received any impression of the outer world, that her eyes had
never
looked beyond the mine, and that these somber depths had been all
the
world to her.
The
poor girl probably knew not that there were a sun and stars, towns
and
counties, a mighty universe composed of myriads of worlds. But
until
she comprehended the significance of words at present conveying no
precise
meaning to her, it was impossible to ascertain what she knew.
As to
whether or not Nell had lived alone in the recesses of New
Aberfoyle,
James Starr was obliged to remain uncertain; indeed, any
allusion
to the subject excited evident alarm in the mind of this
strange
girl. Either Nell could not or would not reply to questions, but
that
some secret existed in connection with the place, which she could
have
explained, was manifest.
"Should
you like to stay with us? Should you like to go back to where we
found
you?" asked James Starr.
"Oh,
yes!" exclaimed the maiden, in answer to his first question; but a
cry
of terror was all she seemed able to say to the second.
James
Starr, as well as Simon and Harry Ford, could not help feeling
a
certain amount of uneasiness with regard to this persistent silence.
They
found it impossible to forget all that had appeared so inexplicable
at
the time they made the discovery of the coal mine; and although that
was
three years ago, and nothing new had happened, they always expected
some
fresh attack on the part of the invisible enemy.
They
resolved to explore the mysterious well, and did so, well armed
and
in considerable numbers. But nothing suspicious was to be seen; the
shaft
communicated with lower stages of the crypt, hollowed out in the
carboniferous
bed.
Many
a time did James Starr, Simon, and Harry talk over these things. If
one
or more malevolent beings were concealed in the coal-pit, and there
concocted
mischief, Nell surely could have warned them of it, yet she
said
nothing. The slightest allusion to her past life brought on such
fits
of violent emotion, that it was judged best to avoid the subject
for
the present. Her secret would certainly escape her by-and-by.
By
the time Nell had been a fortnight in the cottage, she had become a
most
intelligent and zealous assistant to old Madge. It was clear that
she
instinctively felt she should remain in the dwelling where she had
been
so charitably received, and perhaps never dreamt of quitting it.
This
family was all in all to her, and to the good folks themselves Nell
had
seemed an adopted child from the moment when she first came beneath
their
roof. Nell was in truth a charming creature; her new mode of
existence
added to her beauty, for these were no doubt the first happy
days
of her life, and her heart was full of gratitude towards those to
whom
she owed them. Madge felt towards her as a mother would; the old
woman
doted upon her; in short, she was beloved by everybody. Jack Ryan
only
regretted one thing, which was that he had not saved her himself.
Friend
Jack often came to the cottage. He sang, and Nell, who had never
heard
singing before, admired it greatly; but anyone might see that she
preferred
to Jack's songs the graver conversation of Harry, from whom by
degrees
she learnt truths concerning the outer world, of which hitherto
she
had known nothing.
It
must be said that, since Nell had appeared in her own person, Jack
Ryan
had been obliged to admit that his belief in hobgoblins was in a
measure
weakened. A couple of months later his credulity experienced
a
further shock. About that time Harry unexpectedly made a discovery
which,
in part at least, accounted for the apparition of the
fire-maidens
among the ruins of Dundonald Castle at Irvine.
During
several days he had been engaged in exploring the remote
galleries
of the prodigious excavation towards the south. At last he
scrambled
with difficulty up a narrow passage which branched off through
the
upper rock. To his great astonishment, he suddenly found himself in
the
open air. The passage, after ascending obliquely to the surface of
the
ground, led out directly among the ruins of Dundonald Castle.
There
was, therefore, a communication between New Aberfoyle and the
hills
crowned by this ancient castle. The upper entrance to this
gallery,
being completely concealed by stones and brushwood, was
invisible
from without; at the time of their search, therefore, the
magistrates
had been able to discover nothing.
A few
days afterwards, James Starr, guided by Harry, came himself to
inspect
this curious natural opening into the coal mine. "Well,"
said
he, "here is enough to convince the most superstitious among us.
Farewell
to all their brownies, goblins, and fire-maidens now!"
"I hardly think, Mr. Starr, we ought to congratulate ourselves," replied<= o:p>
Harry.
"Whatever it is we have instead of these things, it can't be
better,
and may be worse than they are."
"That's
true, Harry," said the engineer; "but what's to be done? It is
plain
that, whatever the beings are who hide in the mine, they reach
the
surface of the earth by this passage. No doubt it was the light of
torches
waved by them during that dark and stormy night which attracted
the
MOTALA towards the rocky coast, and like the wreckers of former
days,
they would have plundered the unfortunate vessel, had it not been
for
Jack Ryan and his friends. Anyhow, so far it is evident, and here
is
the mouth of the den. As to its occupants, the question is--Are they
here
still?"
"I
say yes; because Nell trembles when we mention them--yes, because
Nell
will not, or dare not, speak about them," answered Harry in a tone
of
decision.
Harry
was surely in the right. Had these mysterious denizens of the pit
abandoned
it, or ceased to visit the spot, what reason could the girl
have
had for keeping silence?
James
Starr could not rest till he had penetrated this mystery. He
foresaw
that the whole future of the new excavations must depend upon
it.
Renewed and strict precautions were therefore taken. The authorities
were
informed of the discovery of the entrance. Watchers were placed
among
the ruins of the castle. Harry himself lay hid for several nights
in
the thickets of brushwood which clothed the hill-side.
Nothing
was discovered--no human being emerged from the opening. So
most
people came to the conclusion that the villains had been finally
dislodged
from the mine, and that, as to Nell, they must suppose her to
be
dead at the bottom of the shaft where they had left her.
While
it remained unworked, the mine had been a safe enough place of
refuge,
secure from all search or pursuit. But now, circumstances being
altered,
it became difficult to conceal this lurking-place, and it might
reasonably
be hoped they were gone, and that nothing for the future was
to be
dreaded from them.
James
Starr, however, could not feel sure about it; neither could Harry
be
satisfied on the subject, often repeating, "Nell has clearly been
mixed
up with all this secret business. If she had nothing more to fear,
why
should she keep silence? It cannot be doubted that she is happy with
us.
She likes us all--she adores my mother. Her absolute silence as to
her
former life, when by speaking out she might benefit us, proves to me
that
some awful secret, which she dares not reveal, weighs on her
mind.
It may also be that she believes it better for us, as well as
for
herself, that she should remain mute in a way otherwise so
unaccountable."
In
consequence of these opinions, it was agreed by common consent
to
avoid all allusion to the maiden's former mode of life. One day,
however,
Harry was led to make known to Nell what James Starr, his
father,
mother, and himself believed they owed to her interference.
It
was a fete-day. The miners made holiday on the surface of the
county
of Stirling as well as in its subterraneous domains. Parties of
holiday-makers
were moving about in all directions. Songs resounded in
many
places beneath the sonorous vaults of New Aberfoyle. Harry and Nell
left
the cottage, and slowly walked along the left bank of Loch Malcolm.
Then
the electric brilliance darted less vividly, and the rays were
interrupted
with fantastic effect by the sharp angles of the picturesque
rocks
which supported the dome. This imperfect light suited Nell, to
whose
eyes a glare was very unpleasant.
"Nell,"
said Harry, "your eyes are not fit for daylight yet, and could
not
bear the brightness of the sun."
"Indeed
they could not," replied the girl; "if the sun is such as you
describe
it to me, Harry."
"I
cannot by any words, Nell, give you an idea either of his splendor
or of
the beauty of that universe which your eyes have never beheld. But
tell
me, is it really possible that, since the day when you were born in
the
depths of the coal mine, you never once have been up to the surface
of
the earth?"
"Never
once, Harry," said she; "I do not believe that, even as an
infant,
my father or mother ever carried me thither. I am sure I should
have
retained some impression of the open air if they had."
"I
believe you would," answered Harry. "Long ago, Nell, many childre=
n
used
to live altogether in the mine; communication was then difficult,
and I
have met with more than one young person, quite as ignorant as you
are
of things above-ground. But now the railway through our great tunnel
takes
us in a few minutes to the upper regions of our country. I long,
Nell,
to hear you say, 'Come, Harry, my eyes can bear daylight, and I
want
to see the sun! I want to look upon the works of the Almighty.'"
"I
shall soon say so, Harry, I hope," replied the girl; "I shall soo=
n go
with
you to the world above; and yet--"
"What
are you going to say, Nell?" hastily cried Harry; "can you
possibly
regret having quitted that gloomy abyss in which you spent your
early
years, and whence we drew you half dead?"
"No,
Harry," answered Nell; "I was only thinking that darkness is
beautiful
as well as light. If you but knew what eyes accustomed to its
depth
can see! Shades flit by, which one longs to follow; circles mingle
and
intertwine, and one could gaze on them forever; black hollows, full
of
indefinite gleams of radiance, lie deep at the bottom of the mine.
And
then the voice-like sounds! Ah, Harry! one must have lived down
there
to understand what I feel, what I can never express."
"And
were you not afraid, Nell, all alone there?"
"It
was just when I was alone that I was not afraid."
Nell's
voice altered slightly as she said these words; however, Harry
thought
he might press the subject a little further, so he said, "But
one
might be easily lost in these great galleries, Nell. Were you not
afraid
of losing your way?"
"Oh,
no, Harry; for a long time I had known every turn of the new mine."
"Did
you never leave it?"
"Yes,
now and then," answered the girl with a little hesitation;
"sometimes
I have been as far as the old mine of Aberfoyle."
"So
you knew our old cottage?"
"The
cottage! oh, yes; but the people who lived there I only saw at a
great
distance."
"They were my father and mother," said Harry; "and I was there too; we<= o:p>
have
always lived there--we never would give up the old dwelling."
"Perhaps
it would have been better for you if you had," murmured the
maiden.
"Why
so, Nell? Was it not just because we were obstinately resolved to
remain
that we ended by discovering the new vein of coal? And did not
that
discovery lead to the happy result of providing work for a large
population,
and restoring them to ease and comfort? and did it not
enable
us to find you, Nell, to save your life, and give you the love of
all
our hearts?"
"Ah,
yes, for me indeed it is well, whatever may happen," replied Nell
earnestly;
"for others--who can tell?"
"What
do you mean?"
"Oh,
nothing--nothing. But it used to be very dangerous at that time to
go
into the new cutting--yes, very dangerous indeed, Harry! Once some
rash
people made their way into these chasms. They got a long, long way;
they
were lost!"
"They
were lost?" said Harry, looking at her.
"Yes,
lost!" repeated Nell in a trembling voice. "They could not find
their
way out."
"And
there," cried Harry, "they were imprisoned during eight long
days!
They were at the point of death, Nell; and, but for a kind and
charitable
being--an angel perhaps--sent by God to help them, who
secretly
brought them a little food; but for a mysterious guide, who
afterwards
led to them their deliverers, they never would have escaped
from
that living tomb!"
"And
how do you know about that?" demanded the girl.
"Because
those men were James Starr, my father, and myself, Nell!"
Nell
looked up hastily, seized the young man's hand, and gazed so
fixedly
into his eyes that his feelings were stirred to their depths.
"You
were there?" at last she uttered.
"I
was indeed," said Harry, after a pause, "and she to whom we owe o=
ur
lives
can have been none other than yourself, Nell!"
Nell
hid her face in her hands without speaking. Harry had never seen
her
so much affected.
"Those
who saved your life, Nell," added he in a voice tremulous with
emotion,
"already owed theirs to you; do you think they will ever forget
it?"
THE
mining operations at New Aberfoyle continued to be carried on very
successfully.
As a matter of course, the engineer, James Starr, as well
as
Simon Ford, the discoverers of this rich carboniferous region, shared
largely
in the profits.
In
time Harry became a partner. But he never thought of quitting
the
cottage. He took his father's place as overman, and diligently
superintended
the works of this colony of miners. Jack Ryan was proud
and
delighted at the good fortune which had befallen his comrade. He
himself
was getting on very well also.
They
frequently met, either at the cottage or at the works in the pit.
Jack
did not fail to remark the sentiments entertained by Harry towards
Nell.
Harry would not confess to them; but Jack only laughed at him when
he
shook his head and tried to deny any special interest in her.
It
must be noted that Jack Ryan had the greatest possible wish to be of
the
party when Nell should pay her first visit to the upper surface of
the
county of Stirling. He wished to see her wonder and admiration on
first
beholding the yet unknown face of Nature. He very much hoped that
Harry
would take him with them when the excursion was made. As yet,
however,
the latter had made no proposal of the kind to him, which
caused
him to feel a little uneasy as to his intentions.
One
morning Jack Ryan was descending through a shaft which led from the
surface
to the lower regions of the pit. He did so by means of one of
those
ladders which, continually revolving by machinery, enabled persons
to
ascend and descend without fatigue. This apparatus had lowered
him
about a hundred and fifty feet, when at a narrow landing-place he
perceived
Harry, who was coming up to his labors for the day.
"Well
met, my friend!" cried Jack, recognizing his comrade by the light
of
the electric lamps.
"Ah,
Jack!" replied Harry, "I am glad to see you. I've got something t=
o
propose."
"I can listen to nothing till you tell me how Nell is," interrupted Jack<= o:p>
Ryan.
"Nell
is all right, Jack--so much so, in fact, that I hope in a month or
six
weeks--"
"To
marry her, Harry?"
"Jack,
you don't know what you are talking about!"
"Ah,
that's very likely; but I know quite well what I shall do."
"What
will you do?"
"Marry
her myself, if you don't; so look sharp," laughed Jack. "By Saint=
Mungo!
I think an immense deal of bonny Nell! A fine young creature like
that,
who has been brought up in the mine, is just the very wife for a
miner.
She is an orphan--so am I; and if you don't care much for her,
and
if she will have me--"
Harry
looked gravely at Jack, and let him talk on without trying to
stop
him. "Don't you begin to feel jealous, Harry?" asked Jack in a mo=
re
serious
tone.
"Not
at all," answered Harry quietly.
"But
if you don't marry Nell yourself, you surely can't expect her to
remain
a spinster?"
"I
expect nothing," said Harry.
A
movement of the ladder machinery now gave the two friends the
opportunity--one
to go up, the other down the shaft. However, they
remained
where they were.
"Harry,"
quoth Jack, "do you think I spoke in earnest just now about
Nell?"
"No,
that I don't, Jack."
"Well,
but now I will!"
"You?
speak in earnest?"
"My
good fellow, I can tell you I am quite capable of giving a friend a
bit
of advice."
"Let's
hear, then, Jack!"
"Well,
look here! You love Nell as heartily as she deserves. Old Simon,
your
father, and old Madge, your mother, both love her as if she were
their
daughter. Why don't you make her so in reality? Why don't you
marry
her?"
"Come,
Jack," said Harry, "you are running on as if you knew how Nell
felt
on the subject."
"Everybody
knows that," replied Jack, "and therefore it is impossible to
make
you jealous of any of us. But here goes the ladder again--I'm off!"
"Stop
a minute, Jack!" cried Harry, detaining his companion, who was
stepping
onto the moving staircase.
"I
say! you seem to mean me to take up my quarters here altogether!"
"Do
be serious and listen, Jack! I want to speak in earnest myself now."
"Well,
I'll listen till the ladder moves again, not a minute longer."
"Jack,"
resumed Harry, "I need not pretend that I do not love Nell; I
wish
above all things to make her my wife."
"That's
all right!"
"But
for the present I have scruples of conscience as to asking her to
make
me a promise which would be irrevocable."
"What
can you mean, Harry?"
"I
mean just this--that, it being certain Nell has never been outside
this
coal mine in the very depths of which she was born, it stands to
reason
that she knows nothing, and can comprehend nothing of what exists
beyond
it. Her eyes--yes, and perhaps also her heart--have everything
yet
to learn. Who can tell what her thoughts will be, when perfectly new
impressions
shall be made upon her mind? As yet she knows nothing of
the
world, and to me it would seem like deceiving her, if I led her to
decide
in ignorance, upon choosing to remain all her life in the coal
mine.
Do you understand me, Jack?"
"Hem!--yes--pretty
well. What I understand best is that you are going to
make
me miss another turn of the ladder."
"Jack,"
replied Harry gravely, "if this machinery were to stop
altogether,
if this landing-place were to fall beneath our feet, you
must
and shall hear what I have to say."
"Well
done, Harry! that's how I like to be spoken to! Let's settle,
then,
that, before you marry Nell, she shall go to school in Auld
Reekie."
"No
indeed, Jack; I am perfectly able myself to educate the person who
is to
be my wife."
"Sure
that will be a great deal better, Harry!"
"But,
first of all," resumed Harry, "I wish that Nell should gain a rea=
l
knowledge
of the upper world. To illustrate my meaning, Jack, suppose
you
were in love with a blind girl, and someone said to you, 'In a
month's
time her sight will be restored,' would you not wait till after
she
was cured, to marry her?"
"Faith,
to be sure I would!" exclaimed Jack.
"Well,
Jack, Nell is at present blind; and before she marries me, I wish
her
to see what I am, and what the life really is to which she would
bind
herself. In short, she must have daylight let in upon the subject!"
"Well said, Harry! Very well said indeed!" cried Jack. "Now I see what<= o:p>
you
are driving at. And when may we expect the operation to come off?"
"In
a month, Jack," replied Harry. "Nell is getting used to the light=
of
our
reflectors. That is some preparation. In a month she will, I hope,
have
seen the earth and its wonders--the sky and its splendors. She will
perceive
that the limits of the universe are boundless."
But
while Harry was thus giving the rein to his imagination, Jack Ryan,
quitting
the platform, had leaped on the step of the moving machinery.
"Hullo,
Jack! Where are you?"
"Far
beneath you," laughed the merry fellow. "While you soar to the
heights,
I plunge into the depths."
"Fare
ye well. Jack!" returned Harry, himself laying hold of the rising
ladder;
"mind you say nothing about what I have been telling you."
"Not
a word," shouted Jack, "but I make one condition."
"What
is that?"
"That
I may be one of the party when Nell's first excursion to the face
of
the earth comes off!"
"So
you shall, Jack, I promise you!"
A
fresh throb of the machinery placed a yet more considerable distance
between
the friends. Their voices sounded faintly to each other. Harry,
however,
could still hear Jack shouting:
"I
say! do you know what Nell will like better than either sun, moon, or
stars,
after she's seen the whole of them?"
"No,
Jack!"
"Why,
you yourself, old fellow! still you! always you!" And Jack's voice
died
away in a prolonged "Hurrah!"
Harry,
after this, applied himself diligently, during all his spare
time,
to the work of Nell's education. He taught her to read and to
write,
and such rapid progress did she make, it might have been said
that
she learnt by instinct. Never did keen intelligence more quickly
triumph
over utter ignorance. It was the wonder of all beholders.
Simon
and Madge became every day more and more attached to their adopted
child,
whose former history continued to puzzle them a good deal. They
plainly
saw the nature of Harry's feelings towards her, and were far
from
displeased thereat. They recollected that Simon had said to the
engineer
on his first visit to the old cottage, "How can our son ever
think
of marrying? Where could a wife possibly be found suitable for a
lad
whose whole life must be passed in the depths of a coal mine?"
Well!
now it seemed as if the most desirable companion in the world had
been
led to him by Providence. Was not this like a blessing direct from
Heaven?
So the old man made up his mind that, if the wedding did take
place,
the miners of New Aberfoyle should have a merry-making at Coal
Town,
which they would never during their lives forget. Simon Ford
little
knew what he was saying!
It
must be remarked that another person wished for this union of Harry
and
Nell as much as Simon did--and that was James Starr, the engineer.
Of
course he was really interested in the happiness of the two young
people.
But another motive, connected with wider interests, influenced
him
to desire it.
It
has been said that James Starr continued to entertain a certain
amount
of apprehension, although for the present nothing appeared to
justify
it. Yet that which had been might again be. This mystery about
the
new cutting--Nell was evidently the only person acquainted with it.
Now,
if fresh dangers were in store for the miners of Aberfoyle, how
were
they possibly to be guarded against, without so much as knowing the
cause
of them?
"Nell
has persisted in keeping silence," said James Starr very often,
"but
what she has concealed from others, she will not long hide from her
husband.
Any danger would be danger to Harry as well as to the rest
of
us. Therefore, a marriage which brings happiness to the lovers, and
safety
to their friends, will be a good marriage, if ever there is such
a
thing here below."
Thus,
not illogically, reasoned James Starr. He communicated his ideas
to
old Simon, who decidedly appreciated them. Nothing, then, appeared to
stand
in the way of the match. What, in fact, was there to prevent it?
They
loved each other; the parents desired nothing better for their son.
Harry's
comrades envied his good fortune, but freely acknowledged that
he
deserved it. The maiden depended on no one else, and had but to give
the
consent of her own heart.
Why,
then, if there were none to place obstacles in the way of this
union--why,
as night came on, and, the labors of the day being over, the
electric
lights in the mine were extinguished, and all the inhabitants
of
Coal Town at rest within their dwellings--why did a mysterious form
always
emerge from the gloomier recesses of New Aberfoyle, and silently
glide
through the darkness?
What
instinct guided this phantom with ease through passages so narrow
as to
appear to be impracticable?
Why
should the strange being, with eyes flashing through the deepest
darkness,
come cautiously creeping along the shores of Lake Malcolm? Why
so
directly make his way towards Simon's cottage, yet so carefully
as
hitherto to avoid notice? Why, bending towards the windows, did he
strive
to catch, by listening, some fragment of the conversation within
the
closed shutters?
And,
on catching a few words, why did he shake his fist with a menacing
gesture
towards the calm abode, while from between his set teeth issued
these
words in muttered fury, "She and he? Never! never!"
A
MONTH after this, on the evening of the 20th of August, Simon Ford and
Madge
took leave, with all manner of good wishes, of four tourists, who
were
setting forth from the cottage.
James
Starr, Harry, and Jack Ryan were about to lead Nell's steps over
yet
untrodden paths, and to show her the glories of nature by a light to
which
she was as yet a stranger. The excursion was to last for two days.
James
Starr, as well as Harry, considered that during these eight
and
forty hours spent above ground, the maiden would be able to see
everything
of which she must have remained ignorant in the gloomy pit;
all
the varied aspects of the globe, towns, plains, mountains, rivers,
lakes,
gulfs, and seas would pass, panorama-like, before her eyes.
In
that part of Scotland lying between Edinburgh and Glasgow, nature
would
seem to have collected and set forth specimens of every one of
these
terrestrial beauties. As to the heavens, they would be spread
abroad
as over the whole earth, with their changeful clouds, serene or
veiled
moon, their radiant sun, and clustering stars. The expedition had
been
planned so as to combine a view of all these things.
Simon
and Madge would have been glad to go with Nell; but they never
left
their cottage willingly, and could not make up their minds to quit
their
subterranean home for a single day.
James
Starr went as an observer and philosopher, curious to note, from
a
psychological point of view, the novel impressions made upon Nell;
perhaps
also with some hope of detecting a clue to the mysterious events
connected
with her childhood. Harry, with a little trepidation, asked
himself
whether it was not possible that this rapid initiation into the
things
of the exterior world would change the maiden he had known and
loved
hitherto into quite a different girl. As for Jack Ryan, he was as
joyous
as a lark rising in the first beams of the sun. He only trusted
that
his gayety would prove contagious, and enliven his traveling
companions,
thus rewarding them for letting him join them. Nell was
pensive
and silent.
James
Starr had decided, very sensibly, to set off in the evening.
It
would be very much better for the girl to pass gradually from the
darkness
of night to the full light of day; and that would in this way
be
managed, since between midnight and noon she would experience the
successive
phases of shade and sunshine, to which her sight had to get
accustomed.
Just
as they left the cottage, Nell took Harry's hand saying, "Harry, is
it
really necessary for me to leave the mine at all, even for these few
days?"
"Yes,
it is, Nell," replied the young man. "It is needful for both of
us."
"But,
Harry," resumed Nell, "ever since you found me, I have been as
happy
as I can possibly be. You have been teaching me. Why is that not
enough?
What am I going up there for?"
Harry
looked at her in silence. Nell was giving utterance to nearly his
own
thoughts.
"My
child," said James Starr, "I can well understand the hesitation y=
ou
feel;
but it will be good for you to go with us. Those who love you are
taking
you, and they will bring you back again. Afterwards you will be
free,
if you wish it, to continue your life in the coal mine, like
old
Simon, and Madge, and Harry. But at least you ought to be able
to
compare what you give up with what you choose, then decide freely.
Come!"
"Come,
dear Nell!" cried Harry.
"Harry,
I am willing to follow you," replied the maiden. At nine
o'clock
the last train through the tunnel started to convey Nell and
her
companions to the surface of the earth. Twenty minutes later they
alighted
on the platform where the branch line to New Aberfoyle joins
the
railway from Dumbarton to Stirling.
The
night was already dark. From the horizon to the zenith, light
vapory
clouds hurried through the upper air, driven by a refreshing
northwesterly
breeze. The day had been lovely; the night promised to be
so
likewise.
On
reaching Stirling, Nell and her friends, quitting the train, left the
station
immediately. Just before them, between high trees, they could
see a
road which led to the banks of the river Forth.
The
first physical impression on the girl was the purity of the air
inhaled
eagerly by her lungs.
"Breathe
it freely, Nell," said James Starr; "it is fragrant with all
the
scents of the open country."
"What
is all that smoke passing over our heads?" inquired Nell.
"Those
are clouds," answered Harry, "blown along by the westerly wind.&q=
uot;
"Ah!"
said Nell, "how I should like to feel myself carried along in that
silent
whirl! And what are those shining sparks which glance here and
there
between rents in the clouds?"
"Those
are the stars I have told you about, Nell. So many suns they are,
so
many centers of worlds like our own, most likely."
The
constellations became more clearly visible as the wind cleared the
clouds
from the deep blue of the firmament. Nell gazed upon the myriad
stars
which sparkled overhead. "But how is it," she said at length,
"that
if these are suns, my eyes can endure their brightness?"
"My
child," replied James Starr, "they are indeed suns, but suns at a=
n
enormous
distance. The nearest of these millions of stars, whose rays
can
reach us, is Vega, that star in Lyra which you observe near the
zenith,
and that is fifty thousand millions of leagues distant. Its
brightness,
therefore, cannot affect your vision. But our own sun, which
will
rise to-morrow, is only distant thirty-eight millions of leagues,
and
no human eye can gaze fixedly upon that, for it is brighter than the
blaze
of any furnace. But come, Nell, come!"
They
pursued their way, James Starr leading the maiden, Harry walking
by
her side, while Jack Ryan roamed about like a young dog, impatient of
the
slow pace of his masters. The road was lonely. Nell kept looking at
the
great trees, whose branches, waving in the wind, made them seem to
her
like giants gesticulating wildly. The sound of the breeze in the
tree-tops,
the deep silence during a lull, the distant line of the
horizon,
which could be discerned when the road passed over open
levels--all
these things filled her with new sensations, and left
lasting
impressions on her mind.
After
some time she ceased to ask questions, and her companions
respected
her silence, not wishing to influence by any words of theirs
the
girl's highly sensitive imagination, but preferring to allow ideas
to
arise spontaneously in her soul.
At
about half past eleven o'clock, they gained the banks of the river
Forth.
There a boat, chartered by James Starr, awaited them. In a few
hours
it would convey them all to Granton. Nell looked at the clear
water
which flowed up to her feet, as the waves broke gently on the
beach,
reflecting the starlight. "Is this a lake?" said she.
"No,"
replied Harry, "it is a great river flowing towards the sea, and
soon
opening so widely as to resemble a gulf. Taste a little of the
water
in the hollow of your hand, Nell, and you will perceive that it is
not
sweet like the waters of Lake Malcolm."
The
maiden bent towards the stream, and, raising a little water to her
lips,
"This is quite salt," said she.
"Yes,
the tide is full; the sea water flows up the river as far as
this,"
answered Harry.
"Oh,
Harry! Harry!" exclaimed the maiden, "what can that red glow on t=
he
horizon
be? Is it a forest on fire?"
"No,
it is the rising moon, Nell."
"To
be sure, that's the moon," cried Jack Ryan, "a fine big silver
plate,
which the spirits of air hand round and round the sky to collect
the
stars in, like money."
"Why,
Jack," said the engineer, laughing, "I had no idea you could
strike
out such bold comparisons!"
"Well,
but, Mr. Starr, it is a just comparison. Don't you see the stars
disappear
as the moon passes on? so I suppose they drop into it."
"What
you mean to say, Jack, is that the superior brilliancy of the moon
eclipses
that of stars of the sixth magnitude, therefore they vanish as
she
approaches."
"How
beautiful all this is!" repeated Nell again and again, with her
whole
soul in her eyes. "But I thought the moon was round?"
"So
she is, when 'full,'" said James Starr; "that means when she is j=
ust
opposite
to the sun. But to-night the moon is in the last quarter, shorn
of
her just proportions, and friend Jack's grand silver plate looks more
like
a barber's basin."
"Oh,
Mr. Starr, what a base comparison!" he exclaimed, "I was just goi=
ng
to
begin a sonnet to the moon, but your barber's basin has destroyed all
chance
of an inspiration."
Gradually
the moon ascended the heavens. Before her light the lingering
clouds
fled away, while stars still sparkled in the west, beyond
the
influence of her radiance. Nell gazed in silence on the glorious
spectacle.
The soft silvery light was pleasant to her eyes, and her
little
trembling hand expressed to Harry, who clasped it, how deeply she
was
affected by the scene.
"Let
us embark now," said James Starr. "We have to get to the top of
Arthur's
Seat before sunrise."
The
boat was moored to a post on the bank. A boatman awaited them. Nell
and
her friends took their seats; the sail was spread; it quickly filled
before
the northwesterly breeze, and they sped on their way.
What
a new sensation was this for the maiden! She had been rowed on the
waters
of Lake Malcolm; but the oar, handled ever so lightly by Harry,
always
betrayed effort on the part of the oarsman. Now, for the first
time,
Nell felt herself borne along with a gliding movement, like that
of a
balloon through the air. The water was smooth as a lake, and
Nell
reclined in the stern of the boat, enjoying its gentle rocking.
Occasionally
the effect of the moonlight on the waters was as though the
boat
sailed across a glittering silver field. Little wavelets rippled
along
the banks. It was enchanting.
At
length Nell was overcome with drowsiness, her eyelids drooped, her
head
sank on Harry's shoulder--she slept. Harry, sorry that she should
miss
any of the beauties of this magnificent night, would have aroused
her.
"Let
her sleep!" said the engineer. "She will better enjoy the novelti=
es
of
the day after a couple of hours' rest."
At
two o'clock in the morning the boat reached Granton pier. Nell awoke.
"Have
I been asleep?" inquired she.
"No,
my child," said James Starr. "You have been dreaming that you
slept,
that's all."
The
night continued clear. The moon, riding in mid-heaven, diffused
her
rays on all sides. In the little port of Granton lay two or three
fishing
boats; they rocked gently on the waters of the Firth. The wind
fell
as the dawn approached. The atmosphere, clear of mists, promised
one
of those fine autumn days so delicious on the sea coast.
A
soft, transparent film of vapor lay along the horizon; the first
sunbeam
would dissipate it; to the maiden it exhibited that aspect of
the
sea which seems to blend it with the sky. Her view was now enlarged,
without
producing the impression of the boundless infinity of ocean.
Harry
taking Nell's hand, they followed James Starr and Jack Ryan as
they
traversed the deserted streets. To Nell, this suburb of the capital
appeared
only a collection of gloomy dark houses, just like Coal Town,
only
that the roof was higher, and gleamed with small lights.
She
stepped lightly forward, and easily kept pace with Harry. "Are you
not
tired, Nell?" asked he, after half an hour's walking.
"No!
my feet seem scarcely to touch the earth," returned she. "This sk=
y
above
us seems so high up, I feel as if I could take wing and fly!"
"I
say! keep hold of her!" cried Jack Ryan. "Our little Nell is too =
good
to
lose. I feel just as you describe though, myself, when I have not
left
the pit for a long time."
"It
is when we no longer experience the oppressive effect of the vaulted
rocky
roof above Coal Town," said James Starr, "that the spacious
firmament
appears to us like a profound abyss into which we have, as it
were,
a desire to plunge. Is that what you feel, Nell?"
"Yes,
Mr. Starr, it is exactly like that," said Nell. "It makes me feel=
giddy."
"Ah!
you will soon get over that, Nell," said Harry. "You will get use=
d
to the outer world, and most likely forget all about our dark coal pit."<= o:p>
"No,
Harry, never!" said Nell, and she put her hand over her eyes, as
though
she would recall the remembrance of everything she had lately
quitted.
Between
the silent dwellings of the city, the party passed along Leith
Walk,
and went round the Calton Hill, where stood, in the light of the
gray
dawn, the buildings of the Observatory and Nelson's Monument. By
Regent's
Bridge and the North Bridge they at last reached the lower
extremity
of the Canongate. The town still lay wrapt in slumber.
Nell
pointed to a large building in the center of an open space, asking,
"What
great confused mass is that?"
"That
confused mass, Nell, is the palace of the ancient kings of
Scotland;
that is Holyrood, where many a sad scene has been enacted! The
historian
can here invoke many a royal shade; from those of the early
Scottish
kings to that of the unhappy Mary Stuart, and the French king,
Charles
X. When day breaks, however, Nell, this palace will not look
so
very gloomy. Holyrood, with its four embattled towers, is not unlike
some
handsome country house. But let us pursue our way. There, just
above
the ancient Abbey of Holyrood, are the superb cliffs called
Salisbury
Crags. Arthur's Seat rises above them, and that is where
we
are going. From the summit of Arthur's Seat, Nell, your eyes shall
behold
the sun appear above the horizon seaward."
They
entered the King's Park, then, gradually ascending they passed
across
the Queen's Drive, a splendid carriageway encircling the hill,
which
we owe to a few lines in one of Sir Walter Scott's romances.
Arthur's
Seat is in truth only a hill, seven hundred and fifty feet
high,
which stands alone amid surrounding heights. In less than half
an
hour, by an easy winding path, James Starr and his party reached the
crest
of the crouching lion, which, seen from the west, Arthur's Seat so
much
resembles. There, all four seated themselves; and James Starr, ever
ready
with quotations from the great Scottish novelist, simply said,
"Listen
to what is written by Sir Walter Scott in the eighth chapter
of
the Heart of Mid-Lothian. 'If I were to choose a spot from which the
rising
or setting sun could be seen to the greatest possible advantage,
it
would be from this neighborhood.' Now watch, Nell! the sun will soon
appear,
and for the first time you will contemplate its splendor."
The
maiden turned her eyes eastward. Harry, keeping close beside
her,
observed her with anxious interest. Would the first beams of day
overpower
her feelings? All remained quiet, even Jack Ryan. A faint
streak
of pale rose tinted the light vapors of the horizon. It was the
first
ray of light attacking the laggards of the night. Beneath the hill
lay
the silent city, massed confusedly in the twilight of dawn. Here and
there
lights twinkled among the houses of the old town. Westward rose
many
hill-tops, soon to be illuminated by tips of fire.
Now
the distant horizon of the sea became more plainly visible. The
scale
of colors fell into the order of the solar. Every instant they
increased
in intensity, rose color became red, red became fiery,
daylight
dawned. Nell now glanced towards the city, of which the
outlines
became more distinct. Lofty monuments, slender steeples emerged
from
the gloom; a kind of ashy light was spread abroad. At length one
solitary
ray struck on the maiden's sight. It was that ray of green
which,
morning or evening, is reflected upwards from the sea when the
horizon
is clear.
An
instant afterwards, Nell turned, and pointing towards a bright
prominent
point in the New Town, "Fire!" cried she.
"No,
Nell, that is no fire," said Harry. "The sun has touched with gol=
d
the
top of Sir Walter Scott's monument"--and, indeed, the extreme point
of
the monument blazed like the light of a pharos.
It
was day--the sun arose--his disc seemed to glitter as though he
indeed
emerged from the waters of the sea. Appearing at first very large
from
the effects of refraction, he contracted as he rose and assumed the
perfectly
circular form. Soon no eye could endure the dazzling splendor;
it
was as though the mouth of a furnace was opened through the sky.
Nell
closed her eyes, but her eyelids could not exclude the glare, and
she
pressed her fingers over them. Harry advised her to turn in the
opposite
direction. "Oh, no," said she, "my eyes must get used to loo=
k
at
what yours can bear to see!"
Even
through her hands Nell perceived a rosy light, which became more
white
as the sun rose above the horizon. As her sight became accustomed
to
it, her eyelids were raised, and at length her eyes drank in the
light
of day.
The
good child knelt down, exclaiming, "Oh Lord God! how beautiful is
Thy
creation!" Then she rose and looked around. At her feet extended the
panorama
of Edinburgh--the clear, distinct lines of streets in the New
Town,
and the irregular mass of houses, with their confused network of
streets
and lanes, which constitutes Auld Reekie, properly so called.
Two
heights commanded the entire city; Edinburgh Castle, crowning its
huge
basaltic rock, and the Calton Hill, bearing on its rounded summit,
among
other monuments, ruins built to represent those of the Parthenon
at
Athens.
Fine
roadways led in all directions from the capital. To the north, the
coast
of the noble Firth of Forth was indented by a deep bay, in which
could
be seen the seaport town of Leith, between which and this Modern
Athens
of the north ran a street, straight as that leading to the
Piraeus.
Beyond
the wide Firth could be seen the soft outlines of the county
of
Fife, while beneath the spectator stretched the yellow sands of
Portobello
and Newhaven.
Nell
could not speak. Her lips murmured a word or two indistinctly; she
trembled,
became giddy, her strength failed her; overcome by the purity
of
the air and the sublimity of the scene, she sank fainting into
Harry's
arms, who, watching her closely, was ready to support her.
The
youthful maiden, hitherto entombed in the massive depths of the
earth,
had now obtained an idea of the universe--of the works both of
God
and of man. She had looked upon town and country, and beyond these,
into
the immensity of the sea, the infinity of the heavens.
HARRY
bore Nell carefully down the steeps of Arthur's Seat, and,
accompanied
by James Starr and Jack Ryan, they reached Lambert's Hotel.
There
a good breakfast restored their strength, and they began to make
further
plans for an excursion to the
Nell
was now refreshed, and able to look boldly forth into the sunshine,
while
her lungs with ease inhaled the free and healthful air. Her eyes
learned
gladly to know the harmonious varieties of color as they rested
on
the green trees, the azure skies, and all the endless shades of
lovely
flowers and plants.
The
railway train, which they entered at the Waverley Station, conveyed
Nell
and her friends to Glasgow. There, from the new bridge across the
Clyde,
they watched the curious sea-like movement of the river. After
a night's
rest at Comrie's Royal Hotel, they betook themselves to the
terminus
of the Edinburgh and Glasgow Railway, from whence a train would
rapidly
carry them, by way of Dumbarton and Balloch, to the southern
extremity
of Loch Lomond.
"Now
for the land of Rob Roy and Fergus MacIvor!--the scenery
immortalized
by the poetical descriptions of Walter Scott," exclaimed
James
Starr. "You don't know this country, Jack?"
"Only
by its songs, Mr. Starr," replied Jack; "and judging by those, it=
must
be grand."
"So
it is, so it is!" cried the engineer, "and our dear Nell shall se=
e
it to
the best advantage."
A
steamboat, the SINCLAIR by name, awaited tourists about to make the
excursion
to the lakes. Nell and her companions went on board. The day
had
begun in brilliant sunshine, free from the British fogs which so
often
veil the skies.
The
passengers were determined to lose none of the beauties of nature to
be
displayed during the thirty miles' voyage. Nell, seated between James
Starr
and Harry, drank in with every faculty the magnificent poetry
with
which lovely Scottish scenery is fraught. Numerous small isles and
islets
soon appeared, as though thickly sown on the bosom of the lake.
The
SINCLAIR steamed her way among them, while between them glimpses
could
be had of quiet valleys, or wild rocky gorges on the mainland.
"Nell,"
said James Starr, "every island here has its legend, perhaps
its
song, as well as the mountains which overshadow the lake. One may,
without
much exaggeration, say that the history of this country is
written
in gigantic characters of mountains and islands."
Nell
listened, but these fighting stories made her sad. Why all that
bloodshed
on plains which to her seemed enormous, and where surely there
must
have been room for everybody?
The
shores of the lake form a little harbor at Luss. Nell could for a
moment
catch sight of the old tower of its ancient castle. Then, the
SINCLAIR
turning northward, the tourists gazed upon Ben Lomond, towering
nearly
3,000 feet above the level of the lake.
"Oh,
what a noble mountain!" cried Nell; "what a view there must be fr=
om
the
top!"
"Yes,
Nell," answered James Starr; "see how haughtily its peak rises
from
amidst the thicket of oaks, birches, and heather, which clothe the
lower
portion of the mountain! From thence one may see two-thirds of old
Caledonia.
This eastern side of the lake was the special abode of the
clan
McGregor. At no great distance, the struggles of the Jacobites and
Hanoverians
repeatedly dyed with blood these lonely glens. Over these
scenes
shines the pale moon, called in old ballads 'Macfarlane's
lantern.'
Among these rocks still echo the immortal names of Rob Roy and
McGregor
Campbell."
As
the SINCLAIR advanced along the base of the mountain, the country
became
more and more abrupt in character. Trees were only scattered
here
and there; among them were the willows, slender wands of which were
formerly
used for hanging persons of low degree.
"To
economize hemp," remarked James Starr.
The
lake narrowed very much as it stretched northwards.
The
steamer passed a few more islets, Inveruglas, Eilad-whow, where
stand
some ruins of a stronghold of the clan MacFarlane. At length the
head
of the loch was reached, and the SINCLAIR stopped at Inversnaid.
Leaving
Loch Arklet on the left, a steep ascent led to the Inn of
Stronachlacar,
on the banks of Loch Katrine.
There,
at the end of a light pier, floated a small steamboat, named,
as a
matter of course, the Rob Roy. The travelers immediately went on
board;
it was about to start. Loch Katrine is only ten miles in length;
its
width never exceeds two miles. The hills nearest it are full of a
character
peculiar to themselves.
"Here
we are on this famous lake," said James Starr. "It has been
compared
to an eel on account of its length and windings: and justly so.
They
say that it never freezes. I know nothing about that, but what we
want
to think of is, that here are the scenes of the adventures in the
Lady
of the Lake. I believe, if friend Jack looked about him carefully,
he
might see, still gliding over the surface of the water, the shade of
the
slender form of sweet Ellen Douglas."
"To
be sure, Mr. Starr," replied Jack; "why should I not? I may just =
as
well
see that pretty girl on the waters of Loch Katrine, as those ugly
ghosts
on Loch Malcolm in the coal pit."
It
was by this time three o'clock in the afternoon. The less hilly
shores
of Loch Katrine westward extended like a picture framed between
Ben
An and Ben Venue. At the distance of half a mile was the entrance to
the
narrow bay, where was the landing-place for our tourists, who meant
to
return to Stirling by Callander.
Nell
appeared completely worn out by the continued excitement of the
day.
A faint ejaculation was all she was able to utter in token of
admiration
as new objects of wonder or beauty met her gaze. She required
some
hours of rest, were it but to impress lastingly the recollection of
all
she had seen.
Her
hand rested in Harry's, and, looking earnestly at her, he said,
"Nell,
dear Nell, we shall soon be home again in the gloomy region of
the
coal mine. Shall you not pine for what you have seen during these
few
hours spent in the glorious light of day?"
"No,
Harry," replied the girl; "I shall like to think about it, but I =
am
glad
to go back with you to our dear old home."
"Nell!"
said Harry, vainly attempting to steady his voice, "are you
willing
to be bound to me by the most sacred tie? Could you marry me,
Nell?"
"Yes,
Harry, I could, if you are sure that I am able to make you happy,"
answered
the maiden, raising her innocent eyes to his.
Scarcely
had she pronounced these words when an unaccountable phenomenon
took
place. The Rob Roy, still half a mile from land, experienced a
violent
shock. She suddenly grounded. No efforts of the engine could
move
her.
The
cause of this accident was simply that Loch Katrine was all at once
emptied,
as though an enormous fissure had opened in its bed. In a few
seconds
it had the appearance of a sea beach at low water. Nearly the
whole
of its contents had vanished into the bosom of the earth.
"My
friends!" exclaimed James Starr, as the cause of this marvel became
suddenly
clear to him, "God help New Aberfoyle!"
ON
that day, in the colliery of New Aberfoyle, work was going on in the
usual
regular way. In the distance could be heard the crash of great
charges
of dynamite, by which the carboniferous rocks were blasted.
Here
masses of coal were loosened by pick-ax and crowbar; there the
perforating
machines, with their harsh grating, bored through the masses
of
sandstone and schist.
Hollow,
cavernous noises resounded on all sides. Draughts of air rushed
along
the ventilating galleries, and the wooden swing-doors slammed
beneath
their violent gusts. In the lower tunnels, trains of trucks
kept
passing along at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, while at their
approach
electric bells warned the workmen to cower down in the refuge
places.
Lifts went incessantly up and down, worked by powerful engines
on
the surface of the soil. Coal Town was throughout brilliantly lighted
by the
electric lamps at full power.
Mining
operations were being carried on with the greatest activity; coal
was
being piled incessantly into the trucks, which went in hundreds
to
empty themselves into the corves at the bottom of the shaft. While
parties
of miners who had labored during the night were taking needful
rest,
the others worked without wasting an hour.
Old
Simon Ford and Madge, having finished their dinner, were resting at
the
door of their cottage. Simon smoked a good pipe of tobacco, and from
time
to time the old couple spoke of Nell, of their boy, of Mr. Starr,
and
wondered how they liked their trip to the surface of the earth.
Where
would they be now? What would they be doing? How could they stay
so
long away from the mine without feeling homesick?
Just
then a terrific roaring noise was heard. It was like the sound of a
mighty
cataract rushing down into the mine. The old people rose hastily.
They
perceived at once that the waters of Loch Malcolm were rising. A
great
wave, unfurling like a billow, swept up the bank and broke against
the
walls of the cottage. Simon caught his wife in his arms, and carried
her
to the upper part of their dwelling.
At
the same moment, cries arose from all parts of Coal Town, which was
threatened
by a sudden inundation. The inhabitants fled for safety to
the
top of the schist rocks bordering the lake; terror spread in all
directions;
whole families in frantic haste rushed towards the tunnel in
order
to reach the upper regions of the pit.
It
was feared that the sea had burst into the colliery, for its
galleries
and passages penetrated as far as the Caledonian Canal. In
that
case the entire excavation, vast as it was, would be completely
flooded.
Not a single inhabitant of New Aberfoyle would escape death.
But
when the foremost fugitives reached the entrance to the tunnel, they
encountered
Simon Ford, who had quitted his cottage. "Stop, my friends,
stop!"
shouted the old man; "if our town is to be overwhelmed, the
floods
will rush faster than you can; no one can possibly escape. But
see!
the waters are rising no further! it appears to me the danger is
over."
"And
our comrades at the far end of the works--what about them?" cried
some
of the miners.
"There
is nothing to fear for them," replied Simon; "they are working on=
a
higher level than the bed of the loch."
It
was soon evident that the old man was in the right. The sudden influx
of
water had rushed to the very lowest bed of the vast mine, and its
only
ultimate effect was to raise the level of Loch Malcolm a few feet.
Coal
Town was uninjured, and it was reasonable to hope that no one had
perished
in the flood of water which had descended to the depths of the
mine
never yet penetrated by the workmen.
Simon
and his men could not decide whether this inundation was owing to
the
overflow of a subterranean sheet of water penetrating fissures in
the
solid rock, or to some underground torrent breaking through its worn
bed,
and precipitating itself to the lowest level of the mine. But that
very
same evening they knew what to think about it, for the local papers
published
an account of the marvelous phenomenon which Loch Katrine had
exhibited.
The
surprising news was soon after confirmed by the four travelers, who,
returning
with all possible speed to the cottage, learned with extreme
satisfaction
that no serious damage was done in New Aberfoyle.
The
bed of Loch Katrine had fairly given way. The waters had suddenly
broken
through by an enormous fissure into the mine beneath. Of Sir
Walter
Scott's favorite loch there was not left enough to wet the pretty
foot
of the Lady of the Lake; all that remained was a pond of a few
acres
at the further extremity.
This
singular event made a profound sensation in the country. It was a
thing
unheard of that a lake should in the space of a few minutes empty
itself,
and disappear into the bowels of the earth. There was nothing
for
it but to erase Loch Katrine from the map of Scotland until (by
public
subscription) it could be refilled, care being of course taken,
in
the first place, to stop the rent up tight. This catastrophe would
have
been the death of Sir Walter Scott, had he still been in the world.
The
accident was explicable when it was ascertained that, between the
bed
of the lake and the vast cavity beneath, the geological strata
had
become reduced to a thin layer, incapable of longer sustaining the
weight
of water.
Now,
although to most people this event seemed plainly due to natural
causes,
yet to James Starr and his friends, Simon and Harry Ford, the
question
constantly recurred, was it not rather to be attributed to
malevolence?
Uneasy suspicions continually harassed their minds. Was
their
evil genius about to renew his persecution of those who ventured
to
work this rich mine?
At
the cottage, some days later, James Starr thus discussed the matter
with
the old man and his son: "Well, Simon," said he, "to my thin=
king
we
must class this circumstance with the others for which we still seek
elucidation,
although it is no doubt possible to explain it by natural
causes."
"I
am quite of your mind, Mr. James," replied Simon, "but take my
advice,
and say nothing about it; let us make all researches ourselves."
"Oh,
I know the result of such research beforehand!" cried the engineer.
"And
what will it be, then?"
"We
shall find proofs of malevolence, but not the malefactor."
"But
he exists! he is there! Where can he lie concealed? Is it possible
to
conceive that the most depraved human being could, single-handed,
carry
out an idea so infernal as that of bursting through the bed of a
lake?
I believe I shall end by thinking, like Jack Ryan, that the evil
demon
of the mine revenges himself on us for having invaded his domain."
Nell
was allowed to hear as little as possible of these discussions.
Indeed,
she showed no desire to enter into them, although it was very
evident
that she shared in the anxieties of her adopted parents. The
melancholy
in her countenance bore witness to much mental agitation.
It
was at length resolved that James Starr, together with Simon and
Harry,
should return to the scene of the disaster, and endeavor to
satisfy
themselves as to the cause of it. They mentioned their project
to no
one. To those unacquainted with the group of facts on which it
was
based, the opinion of Starr and his friends could not fail to appear
wholly
inadmissible.
A few
days later, the three friends proceeded in a small boat to examine
the
natural pillars on which had rested the solid earth forming the
basin
of Loch Katrine. They discovered that they had been right in
suspecting
that the massive columns had been undermined by blasting.
The
blackened traces of explosion were to be seen, the waters having
subsided
below the level of these mysterious operations Thus the fall of
a
portion of the vast vaulted dome was proved to have been premeditated
by
man, and by man's hand had it been effected.
"It
is impossible to doubt it," said James Starr; "and who can say wh=
at
might
not have happened had the sea, instead of a little loch, been let
in
upon us?"
"You
may well say that," cried the old overman, with a feeling of pride
in his beloved mine; "for nothing less than a sea would have drowned our<= o:p>
Aberfoyle.
But, once more, what possible interest could any human being
have
in the destruction of our works?"
"It
is quite incomprehensible," replied James Starr. "This case is
something
perfectly unlike that of a band of common criminals, who,
concealing
themselves in dens and caves, go forth to rob and pillage the
surrounding
country. The evil deeds of such men would certainly, in the
course
of three years have betrayed their existence and lurking-places.
Neither
can it be, as I sometimes used to think, that smugglers or
coiners
carried on their illegal practices in some distant and unknown
corner
of these prodigious caverns, and were consequently anxious to
drive
us out of them. But no one coins false money or obtains contraband
goods
only to conceal them!
"Yet
it is clear that an implacable enemy has sworn the ruin of New
Aberfoyle,
and that some interest urges him to seek in every possible
way
to wreak his hatred upon us. He appears to be too weak to act
openly,
and lays his schemes in secret; but displays such intelligence
as to
render him a most formidable foe.
"My
friends, he must understand better than we do the secrets of our
domain,
since he has all this time eluded our vigilance. He must be
a man
experienced in mining, skilled beyond the most skillful--that's
certain,
Simon! We have proof enough of that.
"Let
me see! Have you never had a personal enemy, to whom your
suspicions
might point? Think well! There is such a thing as hatred
which
time never softens. Go back to recollections of your earliest
days.
What befalls us appears the work of a stern and patient will, and
to
explain it demands every effort of thought and memory."
Simon
did not answer immediately--his mind evidently engaged in a close
and
candid survey of his past life. Presently, raising his head, "No,"=
;
said
he; "no! Heaven be my witness, neither Madge nor I have ever
injured
anybody. We cannot believe that we have a single enemy in the
world."
"Ah!
if Nell would only speak!" cried the engineer.
"Mr.
Starr--and you, father," said Harry, "I do beg of you to keep
silence
on this matter, and not to question my poor Nell. I know she
is
very anxious and uneasy; and I feel positive that some great secret
painfully
oppresses her heart. Either she knows nothing it would be of
any
use for us to hear, or she considers it her duty to be silent. It is
impossible
to doubt her affection for us--for all of us. If at a future
time
she informs me of what she has hitherto concealed from us, you
shall
know about it immediately."
"So
be it, then, Harry," answered the engineer; "and yet I must say
Nell's
silence, if she knows anything, is to me perfectly inexplicable."
Harry
would have continued her defense; but the engineer stopped him,
saying,
"All right, Harry; we promise to say no more about it to your
future
wife."
"With
my father's consent she shall be my wife without further delay."
"My
boy," said old Simon, "your marriage shall take place this very d=
ay
month.
Mr. Starr, will you undertake the part of Nell's father?"
"You
may reckon upon me for that, Simon," answered the engineer.
They
then returned to the cottage, but said not a word of the result of
their
examinations in the mine, so that to the rest of its inhabitants,
the
bursting in of the vaulted roof of the caverns continued to be
regarded
as a mere accident. There was but a loch the less in Scotland.
Nell
gradually resumed her customary duties, and Harry made good use of
her
little visit to the upper air, in the instructions he gave her. She
enjoyed
the recollections of life above ground, yet without regretting
it.
The somber region she had loved as a child, and in which her wedded
life
would be spent, was as dear to her as ever.
The
approaching marriage created great excitement in New Aberfoyle. Good
wishes
poured in on all sides, and foremost among them were Jack Ryan's.
He
was detected busily practicing his best songs in preparation for the
great
day, which was to be celebrated by the whole population of Coal
Town.
During
the month preceding the wedding-day, there were more accidents
occurring
in New Aberfoyle than had ever been known in the place. One
would
have thought the approaching union of Harry and Nell actually
provoked
one catastrophe after another. These misfortunes happened
chiefly
at the further and lowest extremity of the works, and the cause
of
them was always in some way mysterious.
Thus,
for instance, the wood-work of a distant gallery was discovered to
be in
flames, which were extinguished by Harry and his companions at the
risk
of their lives, by employing engines filled with water and carbonic
acid,
always kept ready in case of necessity. The lamp used by the
incendiary
was found; but no clew whatever as to who he could be.
Another
time an inundation took place in consequence of the stanchions
of a
water-tank giving way; and Mr. Starr ascertained beyond a doubt
that
these supports had first of all been partially sawn through. Harry,
who
had been overseeing the works near the place at the time, was buried
in
the falling rubbish, and narrowly escaped death.
A few
days afterwards, on the steam tramway, a train of trucks, which
Harry
was passing along, met with an obstacle on the rails, and was
overturned.
It was then discovered that a beam had been laid across the
line.
In short, events of this description became so numerous that
the
miners were seized with a kind of panic, and it required all the
influence
of their chiefs to keep them on the works.
"You
would think that there was a whole band of these ruffians," Simon
kept
saying, "and we can't lay hands on a single one of them."
Search
was made in all directions. The county police were on the alert
night
and day, yet discovered nothing. The evil intentions seeming
specially
designed to injure Harry. Starr forbade him to venture alone
beyond
the ordinary limits of the works.
They
were equally careful of Nell, although, at Harry's entreaty, these
malicious
attempts to do harm were concealed from her, because they
might
remind her painfully of former times. Simon and Madge watched over
her
by day and by night with a sort of stern solicitude. The poor
child
yielded to their wishes, without a remark or a complaint. Did she
perceive
that they acted with a view to her interest? Probably she did.
And
on her part, she seemed to watch over others, and was never easy
unless
all whom she loved were together in the cottage.
When
Harry came home in the evening, she could not restrain expressions
of
child-like joy, very unlike her usual manner, which was rather
reserved
than demonstrative. As soon as day broke, she was astir before
anyone
else, and her constant uneasiness lasted all day until the hour
of
return home from work.
Harry
became very anxious that their marriage should take place. He
thought
that, when the irrevocable step was taken, malevolence would be
disarmed,
and that Nell would never feel safe until she was his wife.
James
Starr, Simon, and Madge, were all of the same opinion, and
everyone
counted the intervening days, for everyone suffered from the
most
uncomfortable forebodings.
It
was perfectly evident that nothing relating to Nell was indifferent
to
this hidden foe, whom it was impossible to meet or to avoid.
Therefore
it seemed quite possible that the solemn act of her marriage
with
Harry might be the occasion of some new and dreadful outbreak of
his
hatred.
One
morning, a week before the day appointed for the ceremony, Nell,
rising
early, went out of the cottage before anyone else. No sooner had
she
crossed the threshold than a cry of indescribable anguish escaped
her
lips.
Her
voice was heard throughout the dwelling; in a moment, Madge, Harry,
and
Simon were at her side. Nell was pale as death, her countenance
agitated,
her features expressing the utmost horror. Unable to speak,
her
eyes were riveted on the door of the cottage, which she had just
opened.
With
rigid fingers she pointed to the following words traced upon it
during
the night: "Simon Ford, you have robbed me of the last vein in
our
old pit. Harry, your son, has robbed me of Nell. Woe betide you! Woe
betide
you all! Woe betide New Aberfoyle!--SILFAX."
"Silfax!"
exclaimed Simon and Madge together.
"Who
is this man?" demanded Harry, looking alternately at his father and
at
the maiden.
"Silfax!"
repeated Nell in tones of despair, "Silfax!"--and, murmuring
this
name, her whole frame shuddering with fear and agitation, she was
borne
away to her chamber by old Madge.
James
Starr, hastening to the spot, read the threatening sentences again
and
again.
"The
hand which traced these lines," said he at length, "is the same
which
wrote me the letter contradicting yours, Simon. The man calls
himself
Silfax. I see by your troubled manner that you know him. Who is
this
Silfax?"
THIS
name revealed everything to the old overman. It was that of the
last
"monk" of the Dochart pit.
In
former days, before the invention of the safety-lamp, Simon had known
this
fierce man, whose business it was to go daily, at the risk of his
life,
to produce partial explosions of fire-damp in the passages. He
used
to see this strange solitary being, prowling about the mine, always
accompanied
by a monstrous owl, which he called Harfang, who assisted
him
in his perilous occupation, by soaring with a lighted match to
places
Silfax was unable to reach.
One
day this old man disappeared, and at the same time also, a little
orphan
girl born in the mine, who had no relation but himself, her
great-grandfather.
It was perfectly evident now that this child was
Nell.
During the fifteen years, up to the time when she was saved by
Harry,
they must have lived in some secret abyss of the mine.
The
old overman, full of mingled compassion and anger, made known to the
engineer
and Harry all that the name of Silfax had revealed to him. It
explained
the whole mystery. Silfax was the mysterious being so long
vainly
sought for in the depths of New Aberfoyle.
"So
you knew him, Simon?" demanded Mr. Starr.
"Yes,
that I did," replied the overman. "The Harfang man, we used to
call
him. Why, he was old then! He must be fifteen or twenty years older
than
I am. A wild, savage sort of fellow, who held aloof from everyone
and
was known to fear nothing--neither fire nor water. It was his own
fancy
to follow the trade of 'monk,' which few would have liked.
The
constant danger of the business had unsettled his brain. He was
prodigiously
strong, and he knew the mine as no one else--at any rate,
as
well as I did. He lived on a small allowance. In faith, I believed
him
dead years ago."
"But,"
resumed James Starr, "what does he mean by those words, 'You have
robbed
me of the last vein of our old mine'?"
"Ah!
there it is," replied Simon; "for a long time it had been a fancy=
of
his--I told you his mind was deranged--that he had a right to the
mine
of Aberfoyle; so he became more and more savage in temper the
deeper
the Dochart pit--his pit!--was worked out. It just seemed as if
it
was his own body that suffered from every blow of the pickax. You
must
remember that, Madge?"
"Ay,
that I do, Simon," replied she.
"I
can recollect all this," resumed Simon, "since I have seen the na=
me
of
Silfax on the door. But I tell you, I thought the man was dead, and
never
imagined that the spiteful being we have so long sought for could
be
the old fireman of the Dochart pit."
"Well,
now, then," said Starr, "it is all quite plain. Chance made known=
to
Silfax the new vein of coal. With the egotism of madness, he believed
himself
the owner of a treasure he must conceal and defend. Living in
the
mine, and wandering about day and night, he perceived that you had
discovered
the secret, and had written in all haste to beg me to come.
Hence
the letter contradicting yours; hence, after my arrival, all the
accidents
that occurred, such as the block of stone thrown at Harry, the
broken
ladder at the Yarrow shaft, the obstruction of the openings into
the
wall of the new cutting; hence, in short, our imprisonment, and then
our
deliverance, brought about by the kind assistance of Nell, who acted
of
course without the knowledge of this man Silfax, and contrary to his
intentions."
"You
describe everything exactly as it must have happened, Mr. Starr,"
returned
old Simon. "The old 'Monk' is mad enough now, at any rate!"
"All
the better," quoth Madge.
"I
don't know that," said Starr, shaking his head; "it is a terrible=
sort
of madness this."
"Ah!
now I understand that the very thought of him must have terrified
poor
little Nell, and also I see that she could not bear to denounce her
grandfather.
What a miserable time she must have had of it with the old
man!"
"Miserable
with a vengeance," replied Simon, "between that savage and
his
owl, as savage as himself. Depend upon it, that bird isn't dead.
That
was what put our lamp out, and also so nearly cut the rope by which
Harry
and Nell were suspended."
"And
then, you see," said Madge, "this news of the marriage of our son=
with
his granddaughter added to his rancor and ill-will."
"To
be sure," said Simon. "To think that his Nell should marry one of=
the
robbers of his own coal mine would just drive him wild altogether."
"He
will have to make up his mind to it, however," cried Harry. "Mad =
as
he
is, we shall manage to convince him that Nell is better off with us
here
than ever she was in the caverns of the pit. I am sure, Mr. Starr,
if we
could only catch him, we should be able to make him listen to
reason."
"My
poor Harry! there is no reasoning with a madman," replied the
engineer.
"Of course it is better to know your enemy than not; but you
must
not fancy all is right because we have found out who he is. We must
be on
our guard, my friends; and to begin with, Harry, you positively
must
question Nell. She will perceive that her silence is no longer
reasonable.
Even for her grandfather's own interest, she ought to speak
now.
For his own sake, as well as for ours, these insane plots must be
put a
stop to."
"I
feel sure, Mr. Starr," answered Harry, "that Nell will of herself=
propose
to tell you what she knows. You see it was from a sense of duty
that
she has been silent hitherto. My mother was very right to take her
to
her room just now. She much needed time to recover her spirits; but
now I
will go for her."
"You
need not do so, Harry," said the maiden in a clear and firm voice,
as
she entered at that moment the room in which they were. Nell was very
pale;
traces of tears were in her eyes; but her whole manner showed that
she
had nerved herself to act as her loyal heart dictated as her duty.
"Nell!"
cried Harry, springing towards her.
The
girl arrested her lover by a gesture, and continued, "Your father
and
mother, and you, Harry, must now know all. And you too, Mr. Starr,
must
remain ignorant of nothing that concerns the child you have
received,
and whom Harry--unfortunately for him, alas!--drew from the
abyss."
"Oh,
Nell! what are you saying?" cried Harry.
"Allow
her to speak," said James Starr in a decided tone.
"I
am the granddaughter of old Silfax," resumed Nell. "I never knew =
a
mother
till the day I came here," added she, looking at Madge.
"Blessed
be that day, my daughter!" said the old woman.
"I
knew no father till I saw Simon Ford," continued Nell; "nor frien=
d
till
the day when Harry's hand touched mine. Alone with my grandfather
I
have lived during fifteen years in the remote and most solitary depths
of
the mine. I say WITH my grandfather, but I can scarcely use
the
expression, for I seldom saw him. When he disappeared from Old
Aberfoyle,
he concealed himself in caverns known only to himself. In his
way
he was kind to me, dreadful as he was; he fed me with whatever he
could
procure from outside the mine; but I can dimly recollect that in
my
earliest years I was the nursling of a goat, the death of which was
a
bitter grief to me. My grandfather, seeing my distress, brought me
another
animal--a dog he said it was. But, unluckily, this dog was
lively,
and barked. Grandfather did not like anything cheerful. He had
a
horror of noise, and had taught me to be silent; the dog he could
not
teach to be quiet, so the poor animal very soon disappeared. My
grandfather's
companion was a ferocious bird, Harfang, of which, at
first,
I had a perfect horror; but this creature, in spite of my dislike
to
it, took such a strong affection for me, that I could not help
returning
it. It even obeyed me better than its master, which used to
make
me quite uneasy, for my grandfather was jealous. Harfang and I
did
not dare to let him see us much together; we both knew it would be
dangerous.
But I am talking too much about myself: the great thing is
about
you."
"No,
my child," said James Starr, "tell us everything that comes to yo=
ur
mind."
"My grandfather," continued Nell, "always regarded your abode in the<= o:p>
mine
with a very evil eye--not that there was any lack of space. His
chosen
refuge was far--very far from you. But he could not bear to feel
that
you were there. If I asked any questions about the people up above
us,
his face grew dark, he gave no answer, and continued quite silent
for a
long time afterwards. But when he perceived that, not content with
the
old domain, you seemed to think of encroaching upon his, then indeed
his
anger burst forth. He swore that, were you to succeed in reaching
the
new mine, you should assuredly perish. Notwithstanding his great
age,
his strength is astonishing, and his threats used to make me
tremble."
"Go
on, Nell, my child," said Simon to the girl, who paused as though to
collect
her thoughts.
"On
the occasion of your first attempt," resumed Nell, "as soon as my=
grandfather
saw that you were fairly inside the gallery leading to New
Aberfoyle,
he stopped up the opening, and turned it into a prison for
you.
I only knew you as shadows dimly seen in the gloom of the pit, but
I
could not endure the idea that you would die of hunger in these horrid
places;
and so, at the risk of being detected, I succeeded in obtaining
bread
and water for you during some days. I should have liked to help
you
to escape, but it was so difficult to avoid the vigilance of my
grandfather.
You were about to die. Then arrived Jack Ryan and the
others.
By the providence of God I met with them, and instantly guided
them
to where you were. When my grandfather discovered what I had done,
his
rage against me was terrible. I expected death at his hands. After
that
my life became insupportable to me. My grandfather completely lost
his
senses. He proclaimed himself King of Darkness and Flame; and when
he
heard your tools at work on coal-beds which he considered entirely
his
own, he became furious and beat me cruelly. I would have fled from
him,
but it was impossible, so narrowly did he watch me. At last, in
a fit
of ungovernable fury, he threw me down into the abyss where you
found
me, and disappeared, vainly calling on Harfang, which faithfully
stayed
by me, to follow him. I know not how long I remained there, but I
felt
I was at the point of death when you, my Harry, came and saved me.
But
now you all see that the grandchild of old Silfax can never be the
wife
of Harry Ford, because it would be certain death to you all!"
"Nell!"
cried Harry.
"No,"
continued the maiden, "my resolution is taken. By one means only
can
your ruin be averted; I must return to my grandfather. He threatens
to
destroy the whole of New Aberfoyle. His is a soul incapable of mercy
or
forgiveness, and no mortal can say to what horrid deed the spirit of
revenge
will lead him. My duty is clear; I should be the most despicable
creature
on earth did I hesitate to perform it. Farewell! I thank you
all
heartily. You only have taught me what happiness is. Whatever may
befall,
believe that my whole heart remains with you."
At
these words, Simon, Madge, and Harry started up in an agony of grief,
exclaiming
in tones of despair, "What, Nell! is it possible you would
leave
us?"
James
Starr put them all aside with an air of authority, and, going
straight
up to Nell, he took both her hands in his, saying quietly,
"Very
right, my child; you have said exactly what you ought to say;
and
now listen to what we have to say in reply. We shall not let you go
away;
if necessary, we shall keep you by force. Do you think we could be
so
base as to accept of your generous proposal? These threats of Silfax
are
formidable--no doubt about it! But, after all, a man is but a man,
and
we can take precautions. You will tell us, will you not, even for
his
own sake, all you can about his habits and his lurking-places? All
we
want to do is to put it out of his power to do harm, and perhaps
bring
him to reason."
"You want to do what is quite impossible," said Nell. "My grandfather<= o:p>
is
everywhere and nowhere. I have never seen his retreats. I have never
seen
him sleep. If he meant to conceal himself, he used to leave me
alone,
and vanish. When I took my resolution, Mr. Starr, I was aware of
everything
you could say against it. Believe me, there is but one way to
render
Silfax powerless, and that will be by my return to him. Invisible
himself,
he sees everything that goes on. Just think whether it is
likely
he could discover your very thoughts and intentions, from
that
time when the letter was written to Mr. Starr, up to now that
my
marriage with Harry has been arranged, if he did not possess the
extraordinary
faculty of knowing everything. As far as I am able to
judge,
my grandfather, in his very insanity, is a man of most powerful
mind.
He formerly used to talk to me on very lofty subjects. He taught
me
the existence of God, and never deceived me but on one point, which
was--that
he made me believe that all men were base and perfidious,
because
he wished to inspire me with his own hatred of all the human
race.
When Harry brought me to the cottage, you thought I was simply
ignorant
of mankind, but, far beyond that, I was in mortal fear of you
all.
Ah, forgive me! I assure you, for many days I believed myself in
the
power of wicked wretches, and I longed to escape. You, Madge, first
led
me to perceive the truth, not by anything you said, but by the
sight
of your daily life, for I saw that your husband and son loved and
respected
you! Then all these good and happy workmen, who so revere and
trust
Mr. Starr, I used to think they were slaves; and when, for the
first
time, I saw the whole population of Aberfoyle come to church and
kneel
down to pray to God, and praise Him for His infinite goodness, I
said
to myself, 'My grandfather has deceived me.' But now, enlightened
by
all you have taught me, I am inclined to think he himself is
deceived.
I mean to return to the secret passages I formerly frequented
with
him. He is certain to be on the watch. I will call to him; he will
hear
me, and who knows but that, by returning to him, I may be able to
bring
him to the knowledge of the truth?"
The
maiden spoke without interruption, for all felt that it was good for
her
to open her whole heart to her friends.
But
when, exhausted by emotion, and with eyes full of tears, she ceased
speaking,
Harry turned to old Madge and said, "Mother, what should you
think
of the man who could forsake the noble girl whose words you have
been
listening to?"
"I
should think he was a base coward," said Madge, "and, were he my =
son,
I
should renounce and curse him."
"Nell,
do you hear what our mother says?" resumed Harry. "Wherever you
go I
will follow you. If you persist in leaving us, we will go away
together."
"Harry!
Harry!" cried Nell.
Overcome
by her feelings, the girl's lips blanched, and she sank into
the
arms of Madge, who begged she might be left alone with her.
IT
was agreed that the inhabitants of the cottage must keep more on
their
guard than ever. The threats of old Silfax were too serious to be
disregarded.
It was only too possible that he possessed some terrible
means
by which the whole of Aberfoyle might be annihilated.
Armed
sentinels were posted at the various entrances to the mine, with
orders
to keep strict watch day and night. Any stranger entering the
mine
was brought before James Starr, that he might give an account of
himself.
There being no fear of treason among the inhabitants of Coal
Town,
the threatened danger to the subterranean colony was made known
to
them. Nell was informed of all the precautions taken, and became
more
tranquil, although she was not free from uneasiness. Harry's
determination
to follow her wherever she went compelled her to promise
not
to escape from her friends.
During
the week preceding the wedding, no accident whatever occurred
in
Aberfoyle. The system of watching was carefully maintained, but the
miners
began to recover from the panic, which had seriously interrupted
the
work of excavation. James Starr continued to look out for Silfax.
The
old man having vindictively declared that Nell should never marry
Simon's
son, it was natural to suppose that he would not hesitate to
commit
any violent deed which would hinder their union.
The
examination of the mine was carried on minutely. Every passage and
gallery
was searched, up to those higher ranges which opened out among
the
ruins of Dundonald Castle. It was rightly supposed that through
this
old building Silfax passed out to obtain what was needful for the
support
of his miserable existence (which he must have done, either by
purchasing
or thieving).
As to
the "fire-maidens," James Starr began to think that appearance
must
have been produced by some jet of fire-damp gas which, issuing from
that
part of the pit, could be lighted by Silfax. He was not far wrong;
but
all search for proof of this was fruitless, and the continued strain
of
anxiety in this perpetual effort to detect a malignant and invisible
being
rendered the engineer--outwardly calm--an unhappy man.
389
As
the wedding-day approached, his dread of some catastrophe increased,
and
he could not but speak of it to the old overman, whose uneasiness
soon
more than equaled his own. At length the day came. Silfax had given
no
token of existence.
By
daybreak the entire population of Coal Town was astir. Work was
suspended;
overseers and workmen alike desired to do honor to Simon Ford
and
his son. They all felt they owed a large debt of gratitude to these
bold
and persevering men, by whose means the mine had been restored to
its
former prosperity. The ceremony was to take place at eleven o'clock,
in
St. Giles's chapel, which stood on the shores of Loch Malcolm.
At
the appointed time, Harry left the cottage, supporting his mother
on
his arm, while Simon led the bride. Following them came Starr, the
engineer,
composed in manner, but in reality nerved to expect the worst,
and
Jack Ryan, stepping superb in full Highland piper's costume. Then
came
the other mining engineers, the principal people of Coal Town,
the
friends and comrades of the old overman--every member of this great
family
of miners forming the population of New Aberfoyle.
In
the outer world, the day was one of the hottest of the month of
August,
peculiarly oppressive in northern countries. The sultry air
penetrated
the depths of the coal mine, and elevated the temperature.
The
air which entered through the ventilating shafts, and the great
tunnel
of Loch Malcolm, was charged with electricity, and the barometer,
it
was afterwards remarked, had fallen in a remarkable manner. There
was,
indeed, every indication that a storm might burst forth beneath the
rocky
vault which formed the roof of the enormous crypt of the very mine
itself.
But
the inhabitants were not at that moment troubling themselves about
the
chances of atmospheric disturbance above ground. Everybody, as a
matter
of course, had put on his best clothes for the occasion. Madge
was
dressed in the fashion of days gone by, wearing the "toy" and the=
"rokelay,"
or Tartan plaid, of matrons of the olden time, old Simon wore
a
coat of which Bailie Nicol Jarvie himself would have approved.
Nell
had resolved to show nothing of her mental agitation; she forbade
her
heart to beat, or her inward terrors to betray themselves, and the
brave
girl appeared before all with a calm and collected aspect. She had
declined
every ornament of dress, and the very simplicity of her attire
added
to the charming elegance of her appearance. Her hair was bound
with
the "snood," the usual head-dress of Scottish maidens.
All
proceeded towards St. Giles's chapel, which had been handsomely
decorated
for the occasion.
The
electric discs of light which illuminated Coal Town blazed like so
many
suns. A luminous atmosphere pervaded New Aberfoyle. In the chapel,
electric
lamps shed a glow over the stained-glass windows, which shone
like
fiery kaleidoscopes. At the porch of the chapel the minister
awaited
the arrival of the wedding party.
It
approached, after having passed in stately procession along the shore
of
Loch Malcolm. Then the tones of the organ were heard, and, preceded
by
the minister, the group advanced into the chapel. The Divine blessing
was
first invoked on all present. Then Harry and Nell remained alone
before
the minister, who, holding the sacred book in his hand, proceeded
to say, "Harry, will you take Nell to be your wife, and will you promise<= o:p>
to
love her always?"
"I
promise," answered the young man in a firm and steady voice.
"And
you, Nell," continued the minister, "will you take Harry to be yo=
ur
husband,
and--"
Before
he could finish the sentence, a prodigious noise resounded from
without.
One of the enormous rocks, on which was formed the terrace
overhanging
the banks of Loch Malcolm, had suddenly given way and opened
without
explosion, disclosing a profound abyss, into which the waters
were
now wildly plunging.
In
another instant, among the shattered rocks and rushing waves appeared
a
canoe, which a vigorous arm propelled along the surface of the lake.
In
the canoe was seen the figure of an old man standing upright. He was
clothed
in a dark mantle, his hair was dishevelled, a long white beard
fell
over his breast, and in his hand he bore a lighted Davy safety
lamp,
the flame being protected by the metallic gauze of the apparatus.
In a
loud voice this old man shouted, "The fire-damp is upon you!
Woe--woe
betide ye all!"
At
the same moment the slight smell peculiar to carburetted hydrogen was
perceptibly
diffused through the atmosphere. And, in truth, the fall
of
the rock had made a passage of escape for an enormous quantity of
explosive
gas, accumulated in vast cavities, the openings to which had
hitherto
been blocked up.
Jets
and streams of the fire-damp now rose upward in the vaulted dome;
and
well did that fierce old man know that the consequence of what he
had
done would be to render explosive the whole atmosphere of the mine.
James
Starr and several others, having hastily quitted the chapel, and
perceived
the imminence of the danger, now rushed back, crying out in
accents
of the utmost alarm, "Fly from the mine! Fly instantly from the
mine!"
"Now
for the fire-damp! Here comes the fire-damp!" yelled the old man,
urging
his canoe further along the lake.
Harry
with his bride, his father and his mother, left the chapel in
haste
and in terror.
"Fly!
fly for your lives!" repeated James Starr. Alas! it was too late
to
fly! Old Silfax stood there, prepared to fulfill his last dreadful
threat--prepared
to stop the marriage of Nell and Harry by overwhelming
the
entire population of the place beneath the ruins of the coal mine.
As he
stood ready to accomplish this act of vengeance, his enormous
owl,
whose white plumage was marked with black spots, was seen hovering
directly
above his head.
At
that moment a man flung himself into the waters of the lake, and swam
vigorously
towards the canoe.
It
was Jack Ryan, fully determined to reach the madman before he could
do
the dreadful deed of destruction.
Silfax
saw him coming. Instantly he smashed the glass of his lamp, and,
snatching
out the burning wick, waved it in the air.
Silence
like death fell upon the astounded multitude. James Starr, in
the
calmness of despair, marvelled that the inevitable explosion was
even
for a moment delayed.
Silfax,
gazing upwards with wild and contracted features, appeared
to
become aware that the gas, lighter than the lower atmosphere, was
accumulating
far up under the dome; and at a sign from him the owl,
seizing
in its claw the lighted match, soared upwards to the vaulted
roof,
towards which the madman pointed with outstretched arm.
Another
second and New Aberfoyle would be no more.
Suddenly
Nell sprang from Harry's arms, and, with a bright look of
inspiration,
she ran to the very brink of the waters of the lake.
"Harfang!
Harfang!" cried she in a clear voice; "here! come to me!"
The
faithful bird, surprised, appeared to hesitate in its flight.
Presently,
recognizing Nell's voice, it dropped the burning match into
the
water, and, describing a wide circle, flew downwards, alighting at
the
maiden's feet.
Then
a terrible cry echoed through the vaulted roofs. It was the last
sound
uttered by old Silfax.
Just
as Jack Ryan laid his hand on the edge of the canoe, the old man,
foiled
in his purpose of revenge, cast himself headlong into the waters
of
the lake.
"Save
him! oh, save him!" shrieked Nell in a voice of agony. Immediately
Harry
plunged into the water, and, swimming towards Jack Ryan, he dived
repeatedly.
But
his efforts were useless. The waters of Loch Malcolm yielded not
their
prey: they closed forever over Silfax.
Six
months after these events, the marriage, so strangely interrupted,
was
finally celebrated in St. Giles's chapel, and the young couple, who
still
wore mourning garments, returned to the cottage. James Starr
and
Simon Ford, henceforth free from the anxieties which had so long
distressed
them, joyously presided over the entertainment which followed
the
ceremony, and prolonged it to the following day.
On
this memorable occasion, Jack Ryan, in his favorite character of
piper,
and in all the glory of full dress, blew up his chanter, and
astonished
the company by the unheard of achievement of playing,
singing,
and dancing all at once.
It is
needless to say that Harry and Nell were happy. These loving
hearts,
after the trials they had gone through found in their union the
happiness
they deserved.
As to
Simon Ford, the ex-overman of New Aberfoyle, he began to talk of
celebrating
his golden wedding, after fifty years of marriage with good
old
Madge, who liked the idea immensely herself.
"And
after that, why not golden wedding number two?"
"You
would like a couple of fifties, would you, Mr. Simon?" said Jack
Ryan.
"All
right, my boy," replied the overman quietly, "I see nothing again=
st
it in
this fine climate of ours, and living far from the luxury and
intemperance
of the outer world."
Will
the dwellers in Coal Town ever be called to witness this second
ceremony?
Time will show. Certainly the strange bird of old Silfax
seemed
destined to attain a wonderful longevity. The Harfang continued
to
haunt the gloomy recesses of the cave. After the old man's death,
Nell
had attempted to keep the owl, but in a very few days he flew away.
He
evidently disliked human society as much as his master had done, and,
besides
that, he appeared to have a particular spite against Harry. The
jealous
bird seemed to remember and hate him for having carried off Nell
from
the deep abyss, notwithstanding all he could do to prevent him.
Still,
at long intervals, Nell would see the creature hovering above
Loch
Malcolm.
Could
he possibly be watching for his friend of yore? Did he strive to
pierce,
with keen eye, the depths which had engulfed his master?
The
history of the Harfang became legendary, and furnished Jack Ryan
with
many a tale and song. Thanks to him, the story of old Silfax and
his
bird will long be preserved, and handed down to future generations
of
the Scottish peasantry.